


Devil Unicorns

by CrazyJ



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Before Season Five, Devil Unicorns, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt, M/M, Memories, Mention of Character Death, Misunderstanding, Pining, Post Season Four, Running Away, Slow Build, This is actually 30000 words of fluff, back story, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyJ/pseuds/CrazyJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Stiles, Derek’s been gone for almost four months man, he’s not coming back,” Scott said gently, placing his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, knowing his friend needed the support. “If he was going to come back, don’t you think he would have by now?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The room grew heavy as Scott’s question hung in the air, the truth of his words permeating everything but the thick defence Stiles put up anytime Derek was mentioned. To be honest, Scott didn’t understand it. He had liked the dude, appreciated his help more than he had considered him a friend, seen his value in the pack, but he wasn’t heartbroken that he had left. If he was being completely honest, it was easier now that he was gone, the dude was bad luck and things had been good since he and Braeden had disappeared.</i>
</p><p>***</p><p>Post Season Four, let's all pretend season five never happened and they didn't write Derek out as poorly as they did. All the fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil Unicorns

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story over a year ago, but ended up walking away from it because life was too busy. Finally decided it was time to finish this up and 10,000 words later here we are. This is my first Sterek fic so I hope you like it, I am really proud of it and can't wait to hear what you think. Enjoy x

The blow came harder than Stiles was expecting.

For months things had been good, legitimately no-one-being-threatened-with-their-life kind of good, the kind of good where the group started having ‘pack’ nights again, going on double and triple dates, bowling on a Thursday night instead of counting the scars from yet another run in with some magical fairy tale come to life. Stiles started sleeping better at night, the nightmares coming less frequently, the terrors afterwards gripping his chest just slightly less than the night before. 

Scott had Kira and Derek had Braeden and Stiles had Malia and Lydia had Parrish even if both of them were unlikely to admit it. Stiles started to live again, playing video games all through the night, drinking too much on weekends, the disapproving look from his father completely worth it despite the ridiculous hangover that none of the supernatural’s in the pack were feeling at all. Derek would laugh at him every time he did it, because hanging with Derek was apparently a thing now, the double dates between the two couples happening more frequently as the months went by and no one was viciously attacked in the night by the spawn of a devil unicorn, which – no, there was only so much a certain Stiles Stilinski could handle and devil unicorns were NOT one of them. But all that aside, the moral of the story was that things were good.

Which made the blow, when it eventually came, so much worse.

Stiles read the note in his hand, tight fingers crumpling the edge of the worn paper as he read the words he knew by heart, the words he must have read over a thousand times trying to make sense of the message that made absolutely no sense in Stiles’ mind, a mind with enough experience to know what it was like to be tortured by the crazy grandfather of his best friend’s ex-girlfriend who was lying six feet under instead of standing at the door of his room waiting for him to get ready like those who had survived were doing. 

“Stiles…” Malia coaxed gently, her tone supportive if not a bit confused, finding her boyfriend in the same position she had been finding him for the last few months.

“I just don’t understand,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his customary response for when anyone found him reading the note, a moment so private that it often took a few whole minutes for Stiles to register anyone else’s presence, his gaze raising slowly and with too much weight for an eighteen year old boy to hold alone, as if he was carrying the entire world in that single gaze.

“Come on babe, we’re going to get ice cream, you like ice cream!” Malia smiled encouragingly, her nose scrunching up as she tried to convince the boy sitting across the room from her to let go of the paper, let go of the rejection and the disappointment contained in the few lines of script on the page in front of him. She knew he was hurting, but it didn’t make it easier for her to understand, werecoyote or not.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” he said, standing slowly and turning to look around the room for the plaid shirt he had been wearing the night before, retrieving it off the chair of his computer desk that inexplicably reminded him of the last time Derek had sat there months previous, laughing about something Stiles had said as they waited for the girls to finish getting ready, no hint of what was to come in any of Derek’s actions or gestures.

“Stiles, Derek’s been gone for almost four months man, he’s not coming back,” Scott said gently, placing his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, knowing his friend needed the support. “If he was going to come back, don’t you think he would have by now?”

The room grew heavy as Scott’s question hung in the air, the truth of his words permeating everything but the thick defence Stiles put up anytime Derek was mentioned. To be honest, Scott didn’t understand it. He had liked the dude, appreciated his help more than he had considered him a friend, seen his value in the pack, but he wasn’t heartbroken that he had left. If he was being completely honest, it was easier now that he was gone, the dude was bad luck and things had been good since he and Braeden had disappeared.

For the most part.

The one thing Scott didn’t understand was why out of everyone it was Stiles who missed Derek the most. Stiles who would complain that Derek was stubborn and annoying and arrogant, Stiles who would lament the many times Derek had thrown him against a hard surface, Stiles who cursed the man for another shirt ruined as they ran from yet another magical creature who wanted to take off Derek’s head. The two had never been on great terms, which is why the double dates near the end made no sense to Scott, even less sense when they stopped why Stiles was so often found sulking in his room, his eyes pouring over the page as he searched for an answer they all knew wasn’t there.

“I know man, I know,” Stiles replied his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. “Doesn’t mean I wish it wasn’t true.”

With a small shrug Stiles stepped forward, grabbing his keys off the stand by the door and brushing past everyone as he headed downstairs. Kira, Malia, Lydia and Scott exchanged looks as he did, their eyes downcast as the familiar scene played out yet again, his refusal to let go of Derek an anomaly in an otherwise perfect summer.

They ended up at the ice cream parlour as promised, Stiles’ spirits lifting the farther they got from his house. Not for the first time Scott entertained the idea that had a spell had been placed on his best friend’s house, because what other reason would he have for missing the older werewolf?

“Come on, unacceptable!” Stiles shouted, his arms flailing in the open space around him as he shoved curly fries in his mouth and waited for Parrish to answer the question on why he considered Superman better than Batman.

“I….I don’t know man, it’s just preference,” Parrish eventually answered, his cheeks flushing a bright red as he added. “You have to admit, he does look significantly better in tights.”

“Rocking hot bod aside, you can’t tell me that Superman with his holier-than-thou attitude is better than Batman who cruises the city of Gotham fighting crime and searching for the man who killed his parents?!”

“I think we get enough of that here Stiles,” Kira said with a small laugh, the rest of the group following suit now that enough time had passed without an up-close encounter with the recently deceased. “I kind of agree with Parrish, Superman is hot.”

“You only say that because Batman has a mask!” Stiles shouted the disbelief at the turn of events evident on his face.

“Superman kind of has a mask, he wears special glasses!” Malia piped up from the corner, a wide smile stretching across her face for actually knowing that.

“True, but all looks aside, Batman is still way cooler,” Stiles said stubbornly, leaning over to kiss Malia gently on the cheek causing her grin to spread, his face softening as he peered into her hazel eyes from only an inch away, a small smile gripping the edge of his lips and pulling them skywards as he finished the descent, his lips coming to caress her smiling mouth.

“Ew, get a room Stilinski,” Lydia said with a playful shove, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she said it, peeking back and smiling as the two continued to kiss, their bodies gravitating towards each other before he suddenly pulled away from the embrace to turn towards her.

“We have and we shall continue to do so,” he said with a massive grin, leaning back to nibble on Malia’s cheek, her laughter echoing around the almost-empty diner as he smiled at his own joke.

“I do like Superman though,” she added after a few more pecks on the cheek from her boyfriend, his affronted gasp causing the group to laugh once more.

“How dare you?!” He shouted, pulling away as if he had been burned, his facial expression morphing into that of utter horror. “That’s like saying you like Nutella.”

“What’s wrong with Nutella?” Kira asked with a frown, her brows furrowing as she waited for an answer while Stiles continued to look more and more like the rest of the group was dead to him.

“Oh, okay!” He flailed, narrowly missing Lydia who at least had the sense to move pre-emptively. “What’s next is this where you tell me devil unicorns exist too, because I reiterate for the second time tonight that there is only so much I can handle in this world!”

“What’s your shtick with Batman,” Parrish asked as he grabbed his drink and slowly moved away down the booth, his right hand reaching on instinct back towards his Taser though he was at least somewhat positive he would never actually use it.

“Batman is God, that’s all that needs to be said, but in case you were wondering, he’s a self-motivated vigilante trying to right the wrongs of his past and avenge his murdered family while still trying to integrate into everyday society while trying to manage a relationship and friendships and his duty to his city. I don’t know about you, but that dedication and that struggle, man, that’s something else.”

“Why do I feel you aren’t talking about Batman?” Lydia asked casually, not even turning to look at Stiles so she would miss the look of pain that crossed his face confirming her insight.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Stiles said suddenly after a few tense seconds had passed, standing up from the booth and striding towards the door. “Sorry guys, I forgot that Dad was going to be home soon, I’ll see you all later okay?” 

The group watched in silence as he strode towards the door, his back ridged and his hands balled in fists at his side, his keys digging into his palm as he walked, the pain grounding him as he seethed in anger, knowing very well why he was obsessed with Batman. Screw them for not understanding though, he thought, pushing the café door open with force as he marched out towards his beloved jeep. He didn’t need them to understand, he had found someone who understood and he had gone and left him. He was better off alone as it was.

The drive back to his place was over before he knew it and he slipped into the empty house, toeing off his shoes as he did and kicking them lazily into the corner as he mounted the stairs and headed to his room, plopping down on the bed, his hand reaching instinctively for the note on his bedside. It was short and very unsweet and he knew the words by heart, but he found his eyes scanning the page once more all the same.

_“What I am about to say to you, Stiles, likely won’t make sense. I’m hoping one day you can forgive me for what I am about to do. I wish I could have told you, but I figured it would be easier this way. I trusted you and now I have to say goodbye, for the both of us.  
Goodbye Stiles. – D.H.”_

“Goodbye Derek,” Stiles whispered into the darkness, his fingertips brushing across the initials of Derek’s name, ignoring the pain in his chest and the stinging behind his eyes as he pulled the blanket over himself. “Goodbye.”

***

_“Come on, Derek, put me down,” Stiles shouted as Derek hoisted him over his shoulder and began the hike up the stairs to his loft, not even breaking a sweat as he walked up all seven floors with Stiles slung over his shoulders. “Seriously Derek, put me down!”_

_“Or what, you’ll complain about the stairs some more?” He asked with a quirk of his brow unseen to Stiles though they both knew it was there. “Just shut up for one second in your life, Stilinski._

_“Unhand me you heathen!” Stiles shouted once more, attempting to kick his feet before Derek firmly placed one of his large arms overtop, pinning him in place with ease much to his own amusement. “I swear to God if you tell anyone about this I am going to put wolfsbane in your protein powder.”_

_“Yes, Stiles, cause your friends are really going to believe that I carried you up seven flights of stairs.”_

_“At least tell them I was kicking and screaming the whole way,” Stiles said with a huff, dropping his head so it bounced lightly against the older man’s lower back. “It’s a shame no one would believe me if I told them you are just a giant ball of fluff.”_

_“You tell anyone and I will give you a one-way ticket back DOWN the stairs,” Derek threatened with just the barest hint of fangs in his tone._

_“No one would believe me anyways, everyone thinks you are this big brooding monster, no one knows you like I do.”_

_“Thank God for that,” Derek muttered under his breath as he unlocked the door, the outburst catching Stiles by surprise who very wisely chose to stay silent in that moment as Derek entered the loft, still carrying Stiles with ease on his shoulder._

_“Was that almost a compliment?” Stiles asked as Derek plopped him on the bed, the only real piece of furniture in the place now that Peter had left and taken the couch with him._

_“Shut up and go get changed,” Derek said with a shake of his head, already shirking his own shirt for a purple Henley that he pulled from the cupboard nearby, completely unabashed at his chiselled physique._

_“You know, one day I’m going to take my shirt off and you are going to be shocked, SHOCKED,” Stiles said with a quirk of his head, eyeing the other man’s body with distaste as he pulled his water fight ruined shirt over his head, replacing it with one of the spares he left at the loft, his mind imagining what it would be like to impress Derek with his own body, no longer skinny and pale._

_“I’ll believe that when you take the stash of Doritos and Twizzlers out from under your bed,” Derek said with a shake of his head, eyeing the younger boy fondly as he turned back to throw his ruined shirt in the laundry hamper on the floor, a small smile turning up his lips as Stiles blubbered behind him._

_“I…. I…. silence you!”_

***

It was with a sad note that Stiles realized it had been weeks since Malia had snuck in through his window to crawl into bed with him at night. He tried to convince himself that this was why he had been sleeping so poorly, but he knew that wasn’t the answer and in part was almost grateful that she had stopped coming round.

The two were still together, as were all the other couples, but something had changed. Stiles had changed. More importantly, Stiles’ plans for the future had changed.

For most of the summer he planned what their senior year would look like, devoid of feral wolves and nemeton’s and devil unicorns (He had a thing against devil unicorns okay? He read about them in a bestiary once and it was hard to go back from that after you’ve seen the images of what that horn could do to a man). He planned for where they were going to get into college and university, where they would live, who would live with who and what the best layout was of pairings to be far enough apart to get a solid feel for the city, but close enough together that they’d always feel safe near their pack.

He planned for the job the Sheriff would apply for when he decided to come with them. He looked at the hospitals that Melissa could transfer too. He viewed apartments on line for where the two could live, their budding romance only a secret to Scott who had yet to clue in. He planned for a safe house for those full moons that were just too hard to handle and for the body of the inevitable magical creature that eventually turned up to cause some trouble. He planned for access to the nearest grocery centre and arcade. He planned for access to major highways and escape routes. He planned for getaways and day trips and for life to start being awesome for a change, but more than that he planned for when Derek would come with them and buy a house and get a job doing whatever it was Derek did when he wasn’t sulking in the shadows and bench pressing small children.

The thought of the older man caused Stiles’ heart to ache as it did every other time he thought of the werewolf. As he looked up at the ceiling he found himself wondering what Derek was doing at this exact moment, whether he was lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out (likely – but not true), whether he was going for a run as he often did at this hour (plausible – but not true), or whether he was staring at the ceiling wondering how Stiles was doing as well (Completely true).

***

_“Stiles!!” came the booming roar down the hall as Derek entered the loft, the aforementioned individual cowering under Derek’s bed, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like Derek in a futile hope that it would disguise his scent. “Stiles, I know you are here.”_

_“Am not, am not, am not,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he saw socked feet entering the room, stopping at the threshold as Derek no doubt looked around for him._

_“Stiles I-can’t-pronounce-your-middle-name Stilinski, what did you do to my car?” Derek shouted, seemingly no closer to discovering Stiles’ hiding spot as when he entered, Stiles biting his lip to stifle his laughter as he envisioned the older man’s prized Camaro, normally a sleek black, now a blazing pink in honour of the Breast Cancer awareness day that was happening in town. Part of it was done as a joke to see the werewolf’s face which admittedly he was missing, but the real reason Stiles had done it was because of the time Derek told him his mom used to love pulling petty pranks like that on her betas whenever people were getting too stressed._

_“Give me strength,” Stiles heard Derek mutter as he turned and exited the room giving Stiles a chance to release the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was actually quite comfortable under here. There was a shag carpet under the bed and a pillow that had somehow made its way underneath, along with a single sock which in hindsight might actually belong to Stiles and the blanket he was currently wrapped in and a hot older bo – shit._

_“Heeeeeeeeey, buddy,” Stiles drawled as he came face-to-face with the older man who looked about a second away from eating him, and not in the good way. “How’s your day going?”_

_“Pink. My car, is pink, Stiles.” Derek seethed, his brows further receding into his hairline as his features got decidedly less human._

_“So you did notice, very perceptive, Derek,” Stiles started, gaining strength in his courage as he watched the other man’s face contort at his words. “You know I wasn’t sure if you were going to notice for a bit there, you always seem to miss the most obvious things. Granted, I’m not sure how you could get more obvious than a –“  
“Stiles,” Derek growled out behind his teeth, which, yep, those were definitely fangs and not human incisors._

_“Please don’t eat me?” He asked with a smile and a (hopefully) innocent shrug of his shoulders. “All is fair in love and breast cancer awareness day?”_

_“So you’re telling me that my $45,000 car is pink for an awareness day for a cancer that I can’t get because I am neither a woman, nor do I have breasts?” Derek asked in disbelief, his human eyebrows rising as his features morphed back to his everyday look._

_“Okay, admittedly when you put it like that it sounds kind of dumb,” Stiles said with a hint of fear in his tone, his eyes darting back and forth. “I mean, you kind of have boobs, your chest is massive and boob-like if you just accentuate the right way, I just…”_

_“Just what, Stiles? What could possibly convince you to think it was okay to dye my car fricking neon pink?”_

_“I thought it was something your mom would do,” Stiles whispered after a moment, averting his gaze to avoid the look on Derek’s face, unsure of what he was going to find there. “I remembered you telling me that story about what she did to your dad’s truck, I thought it might make you happy to be reminded of them in a positive way for once…”_

_“You’re right,” Derek said after a few long moments of silence, refusing to admit the wetness around his eyes at the younger boy’s “thoughtful” gesture, preferring to tell himself it was from the dust under the bed and not the sincerity of the moment._

_“You’ll keep it then?” Stiles asked hopefully, his spirits perking up as he saw the resigned agreement on the other man’s face._

_“Just for the day.”_

_(Just for the three weeks until the next rain storm washed it off more like it)._

***

“Dad!” Stiles called the next morning as he walked down the stairs to the smell of pancakes and coffee in the kitchen. “I’d be upset with you for not following your diet if that didn’t smell so delicious.”

“Son, I’ll have you know that these are gluten free pancakes and I got the organic syrup from Mrs. Robinson, so shush you, Melissa even said it was the healthier option.”

“Melissa, eh? When were you talking to Melissa?”

“Stiles, shut up.”

Stiles chuckled quietly to himself as his dad pushed a plate of food towards him, pancakes topped with fresh strawberries and syrup spread on top, the strawberries lain out in the shape of a smiley face which caused Stiles to shout in excitement, whipping out his phone to snap a picture, instantly setting it to load on Facebook with the caption “Best dad ever! #sappysheriff.”

“Dad, have I ever told you I love you?” Stiles asked his mouth full of syrup-y goodness.

“Maybe once or twice,” the Sheriff said with a wry grin, grabbing his own plate and a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table, digging into his food hungrily.

“Can I ask you something, Dad?” Stiles asked after a few minutes of quiet eating, his pancakes all but gone.

“Sure son, and please stop considering licking the syrup off of your plate.”

“I will have you know that there are children starving in Africa father, there is a principle that must be upheld here, have not and waste not or something to that extent” Stiles said indignantly, pushing the plate out of his reach with a huff, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted.

“This reminds me of the time I came home from work and you and Derek were licking ice cream out of the bowls because you didn’t want to go wash a few spoons,” the Sheriff said with a laugh, shaking his head when Stiles smiled a rueful grin, remembering the moment fondly.

“It was hot, Dad and we were hungry.”

“Yes, but how a grown man and a teenager weren’t able to find a better way to eat the ice cream than to stick your faces into the bowl astounds me. Also, I’ve seen Derek rip a man open with his bare hands, licking ice cream from a bowl seems a little out of character to me.”

“We both know that Derek the haunted werewolf and the Derek we knew were two very different people,” Stiles said if not a little sadly. “I think the Derek who licked ice cream out of bowls was probably closer to who he used to be before the fire.”

“Know,” the Sheriff said with a pointed look, holding Stiles stare from across the table. “He needed a break and he left, he’s not gone. The Derek that was here for most of the summer is the Derek he wanted you to know. Don’t ask me why he left son, because I really don’t know, but the kid has had a rough life; let him roam for a bit. His home is here, he’ll be back.”

“Do you believe that, Dad? Do you really think he will be back? Everyone else seems to think he’s never going to return and I don’t think any of them really care if he comes back either.”

“Stiles, what you and Derek had was special. I know Scott’s been your best friend since you were kids, but it’s okay to have more than one close friend. He was good for you; he’s been a good friend to you these last few months. He’ll get in touch when he’s ready. Now go and wash the dishes for your old man.”

“How did you know I was going to ask you that?” Stiles asked a few minutes later when all the plates had been rinsed and put in the dishwasher and the pan washed and set out to dry.

“I know what day it is, son. It’s been four months since he left today. You miss him. But like I said, he’ll be back. Now go and do something fun, he’ll have that really sad grumpy face on when he gets back and finds out you’ve been moping for months on end.”

Stiles laughed, imaging Derek’s face, knowing full well that his dad’s remarks very bang on, already envisioning the way the older man’s lips would pull down, how his brows would furrow and how his eyes would reflect that of a small puppy as he stared at Stiles. “He’s kind of vindictive though, he might enjoy it.”

“Probably, now don’t you have somewhere to be?” the Sheriff asked, not even bothering to look up, already knowing the answer though he at least had the decency to laugh under his breath when Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket and saw the time

“No love father!” Stiles shouted as he ran up the stairs, fishing his keys from yesterday’s jeans, pulling a hoodie from the closet before heading back down and running out the front door, barely stopping to shove his feet into his battered shoes.

“Love you too son!” The Sheriff called back, smiling as he heard the jeep roar to life, looking up at the time and wondering how many episodes of Top Gear he could get in before he had to go to work.

***

_“Hotdogs or burgers?”_

_“Burgers.”_

_“Fries or curly fries?”_

_“For the sake of my life I am going to say curly fries.”_

_“Good man. Chocolate or vanilla?”_

_“Vanilla.”_

_“Wait really?” Stiles asked in surprise. “I would have pegged you as a chocolate man.”_

_“It’s too sweet, vanilla is just soft and gooey and you can put whatever you want on it but as soon as you have chocolate cake you add chocolate filling and chocolate icing and it’s just too much.”_

_“Do you eat the hearts of small children while you are at it?” Stiles said with a look of disbelief on his face. “Saying you don’t like chocolate is like saying you don’t like razzle dazzles.”_

_“Stiles, you may actually be the only person in the entire universe who even knows what razzle dazzles are,” Derek said with a shake of his head, leaning forward and grabbing some popcorn from the bowl that sat between them on the couch as he waited for the quizzing to begin again._

_“Their name is razzle dazzles, how can they not be delicious?”_

_“Do I need to remind you of the time you tried to make ‘savoury’ mashed potatoes?” Derek countered with a quirk of his eyebrow._

_“That recipe was a lie, that doesn’t count,” Stiles replied, picking some popcorn from the bowl and chucking it at Derek who deftly caught it in his mouth and smiled at the frustrated sound that escaped Stiles’ mouth as he did so. “You suck.”_

_“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it Stilinski?” Derek said with a laugh, reaching forward and grabbing the remote from the table. “Come on, let’s pick something.”_

_“Hey! I wasn’t done quizzing you.”_

_With a sigh, Derek turned, angling his body so he was facing towards Stiles. “My middle name is James after my grandfather, my favourite colour is red which I realize is incredibly ironic, I hate cashews, I didn’t like watching TV after the fire because everything used to remind me of my family and I use herbal essence shampoo because it smells good and it reminds me of Laura. The number 24 is my lucky number and I’d take cupcakes over cake any day. Also, I don’t really like steak which my family used to tease me about, but it tastes weird. I’d rather eat chicken over a dead cow. Cows have eyes and tongues and sad faces, my grandpa was a farmer and he used to have cows and it wasn’t the same after that, okay?”_

_“So…you’re telling me that the big bad werewolf doesn’t like steak because he made friends with a cow as a child?” Stiles remarked after a moment, doing his best to stop himself from grinning._

_“No…”_

_“What was its name?”_

_“There was no name. There was no cow.”_

_“Derek.”_

_“Stiles.”_

_“Derek.”_

_“Stiles.”_

_“Deeeeeerek.”_

_With a long suffering sigh, Derek turned to look at him. “Her name was Betsy.”_

_Stiles burst into laughter while Derek looked like he’d rather be anywhere then where he was currently as Stiles’ laughs echoed around the room, his feet coming up despite himself as he kicked the air in time with his laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to imagine baby Derek sitting in a field talking to his cow friend, Betsy._

_“This brings me such joy,” Stiles said between his guffaws, wiping at his eyes as he tried to catch his breath._

_“She was a nice cow okay?” Derek said with a huff as if he was personally offended at the fact Stiles was mocking him for being friends with a cow, which in this case he probably was._

_“There needs to be a children’s book about the werewolf and the cow,” Stiles said as he finally caught his breath, smiling gleefully at the look on Derek’s face when he looked at him in horror, knowing full well that the younger boy was serious._

_“Stiles…”_

_“The cow went mooooo and the wolf went awooooooo and the two lived happily ever after.”_

_“Is it murder if I eat you?” Derek asked seriously, not breaking Stiles’ gaze as he stopped laughing and gulped nervously._

_“I believe that would be called cannibalism.”_

_“Good thing I’m only part human then,” Derek said with a frightening grin, his canines sharping much to Stiles’ horror._

_“Remind me to start bathing in chocolate in that case,” Stiles said in a manly voice (his voice did not come out as a squeak and if it did it was a manly squeak he attests when retelling the story years later). “Also, how do you feel about Orange is the New Black?”_

_“What on earth is Orange is the New Black?” Derek asked, his fangs retracting, not missing the sigh of relief that escaped the younger man when he took the change of subject._

_“You’ll love it, it’s a Netflix original,” Stiles said as if that actually answered the question, moving the now empty bowl of popcorn off the couch and slouching down in his seat, his feet landing in Derek’s lap who just rearranged them to his liking before putting his large hands on top, his face directed towards the screen as the show started, missing the small private smile that graced Stiles’ face as they settled in._

_“My jersey number is 24,” Stiles said somewhere in the third episode as he started to nod off, Derek rubbing circles into the skin around his ankle._

_“Exactly.”_

***

He made it to the school with a few minutes to spare, rushing through the halls as he tried to find his friends, spotting Lydia’s strawberry blonde hair in the distance, picking out Scott and Kira and Malia as he moved closer, surprised to see Liam hanging around for this seniors only event.

“Hey guys, sorry, Dad made pancakes.”

“Are you telling me that you almost missed the Saturday Senior activity day because your dad made pancakes, Stilinski?” Lydia said icily, her eyes piercing his as he swallowed audibly, regretting all his life choices up to this point.

“It would appear that way, yes,” he said dutifully in response, locking eyes with Malia who was standing by Kira, giving her a small smile which she only barely returned, turning back to her conversation about the differences between foxes and coyotes and cutting him out as he had come to expect.

“Don’t do it again,” she said with a flourish of her hair in his direction, turning to walk back the way he had just come as the group made its way outside.

“Did I miss something?” Stiles asked Scott as the group paired off, Mason joining Liam in their little group huddle.

“When you left the other day you didn’t pay and none of us had enough cash on us to pay for it but her, I think she’s a little ticked man,” Scott whispered back as Stiles made a face, knowing full well that Lydia’s riches were in short supply currently.

“Ah, well I guess I will just need to lay on the ol’ Stilinski charm,” Stiles said with a grin, throwing one of his arms over his best friend’s shoulder, ignoring the pang in his chest as he realized his arm should be higher up and touching leather if he was being honest with himself. “Works every time.”

***

_“I have a serious question for you both,” Stiles started as he entered the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags on the counter as he turned back to look at his dad and Derek playing cards at the table with a beer at their sides._

_“I wonder what it could be,” the Sheriff said without looking up, picking a card from the top of the pile and placing it on the table with a noise of delight as he matched the colour._

_“So you’re telling me that on a Friday night, two grown men are sitting in my kitchen, drinking beer and playing Uno as if that’s perfectly normal?”_

_“What’s wrong with Uno?” Derek asked, also without looking up as he changed the colour to blue by matching a four at the same time the Sheriff said, “You mean my kitchen.”_

_“Better question, why was I not invited to Friday night Uno?” Stiles asked, flailing his arms for emphasis._

_“Stiles,” the Sheriff started, placing his cards face down on the table and turning to look at his son with a serious expression on his face. “Sometimes a man needs to play Uno on a Friday night to relax after a long stressful week with a beer and a friend with just a little bit of peace and quiet that he is unlikely to get if his teenage son was invited. Don’t take it personally, there’s pizza in the fridge.”_

_“I…agh…. what?!” Stiles huffed, looking between his dad and Derek who had gone back to playing; staring at his father in disbelief as he casually lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long gulp._

_“For the record,” Stiles said as he put the groceries away and loaded himself a plate of pizza. “Derek was my friend first.”_

_“Whatever helps you sleep at night, son.”_

***

“Ha! You suck!” Stiles shouted at Scott’s avatar on the screen, blowing up his character for the umpteenth time that night.

“Come on, no fair man!” Scott shouted back, throwing his controller down in his lap in frustration. “Ugh, let’s call it a night; I need food and something to distract me.”

“The girls are gone for the weekend dude, I am sure you and Kira can handle being away from each other for the whole two days that they are gone.”

“It’s hard, dude. I like her being here, she makes me happy and we were going to go swimming this weekend before they decided to go to the beach.”

“I’ll go swimming with you man,” Stiles said, turning the TV off and dropping the room into darkness.

“It’s not the same, you don’t have boobs man,” Scott replied, standing up and popping his back as he stretched, the bottom of his shirt drifting up past the waistband of his shorts and revealing the treasure trail that Stiles thought was lacking in comparison to some of the other ones he had seen in his time.

“I’m sure Kira will love to hear that you are with her because of her lady parts,” Stiles said with a grin, grabbing Scott’s outstretched hand and pulling himself to his feet as they headed out of his room and down the stairs.

“Kira knows I love her, I just love some parts of her more than others, like her intellect and her smile,” Scott said loyally, a huge grin covering his face as he thought of his girlfriend.

“You two are sickening,” Stiles said with a shake of his head, grabbing the keys from the counter and ushering Scott out, ensuring to check the locks twice before they headed to the car, starting up and backing out of the driveway and heading towards the hub of the town in search of food.

“What about you and Malia?” Scott asked, genuinely wondering as he turned to look at his best friend who was gazing into the distance out the front window as he drove, seemingly lost in thought.

“I don’t know man, things between Malia and I have been strained lately.”

“Why? What’s there to cause strain, things have been so good recently,” Scott countered, drumming his fingers on the sill of the window as he watched the scenery pass and waited for an answer.

“I think we want different things in life,” Stiles said eventually, his expression not changing at all as he said the words he had been keeping inside for so long.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to get into Berkeley and find an apartment and go to school and go to parties and get good grades and get a scholarship so my dad doesn’t have to worry and then have us all move out of Beacon Hills and live happily ever after, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t think she wants that man and I get it. She didn’t really have a life for so many years and she wants to live, but I see the way she looks at other people when she thinks I’m not looking, as if she’s wondering what else is out there. Sometimes when we are alone I start talking about what it would be like if we lived together and she starts talking about how fun college will be to go to parties and dance with people and drink too much and not get drunk and just be wild. I asked her once if she wanted to be with me in college and she said yes, but I don’t know if I believe her.”

“Do you believe yourself?” Scott asked after a moment, biting the edge of his lip thoughtfully.

“I don’t get it.”

“Do you want to be with her in college?” Scott asked softer this time, looking at his best friend’s face and seeing the anguish that was present there, knowing the answer before he heard him say it.

“No. No I don’t.”

***

_“Okay, okay, would you rather live in an apartment with blue walls or green walls?” Stiles asked as Derek drove down the highway, his fingers tapping to his own beat on the steering wheel._

_“What does that have to do with anything, Stiles?” Derek asked incredulously, chancing a look at the other man to see him grinning ruefully._

_“The colour of a man’s walls can say a lot about a person, Derek,” Stiles replied, grabbing his smoothie from the cup holder and taking a sip. ”Now answer.”_

_“My sister’s walls were blue,” Derek said after a moment deep in thought. “My younger cousin, Jack, he had his room painted like an ocean and my other cousin Jamie has his room painted green like the forest which I always thought was odd since we lived in the forest, so I guess I would have to go with blue.”_

_“Hm,” Stiles said thoughtfully, looking at the time and doing the math to figure they were still two hours out from their destination. “I half expected you to say black like your soul and not answer the question, but that works too.”_

_“At what point will it take you to realize that I am actually a person with feelings and favourites?” Derek asked, the tone of his voice suggesting hurt despite him not wanting it too. “I’m just like you are Stiles.”_

_“Except a werewolf, 24, smoking hot, talented at writing, which what, I still don’t get that and basically just the superior human in every way imaginable,” Stiles replied bitterly, biting viciously at his straw, missing the look of surprise on Derek’s face._

_“When did you see my writing?” Derek asked, choosing to ignore the bit about being smoking hot or the superior human being._

_“When Braden and Malia were choosing the movie the other day, I found your journal under the couch, I liked the poem you had in there about what it was like to feel the pull of the moon, it was really powerful, even for a lowly human.”_

_“Tell anyone you found that and I will rip your throat with my –“_

_“With your teeth, yeah yeah,” Stiles said absentmindedly as he recited the poem to himself in his head. “No one would believe me anyways, there’s no point. Also, then I’d have to admit that I like poetry and no thank you, I am good at pretending to only be into comics and men’s books.”_

_“What is a man’s book?” Derek questioned as he glanced at his car mate before looking back at the road, signalling to pass a slower moving vehicle._

_“You know, cars and guns and explosions and stuff,” Stiles said with a flush of his cheeks, embarrassed that he was being called out on this._

_“Stiles, those are books for boys, a real man reads whatever he wants.”_

_“That’s oddly poetic, did you write that yourself too?”_

_“Shut up.”_

***

“Melissa!” Stiles called as he walked through the hospital doors, seeing Melissa leaning against the counter, wrapping her in a hug as he moved closer. “Why don’t you love me anymore?”

“What are you talking about Stiles?” Melissa asked with a fond expression on her face, pushing a stray hair out of his face now that his hair had gotten so much longer. “You know I love you.”

“You haven’t been over to the house in over a month and dad’s been mopey this last week are you guys fighting? I can’t have you guys fighting; you two are the only sane people I have in my life.”

“Stiles…” she said with a sigh, dropping her head a bit to hide her expression. “Your dad and I have been seeing each other yes, but it’s hard when you have two grown adults with careers trying to decide how to work together on things. We’ve essentially raised you and Scott as a single unit, but it’s hard to just worry about us. What do we have to talk about if we aren’t talking about you two? We aren’t fighting; I just don’t know what to say to him.”

“Tell him about your dreams and aspirations,” Stiles replied seriously, grabbing her arms and holding them in his hands. “Tell him what scares you and what keeps you up at night. Tell him why your favourite colour is lilac and why you hate the circus and where you want to go for your dream vacation. My dad really likes you Melissa, you both deserve to be happy. Things have been good around here lately, just try and be happy, whatever that means for you and know that I will always be here for you if you need me.”

Thank you, Stiles,” Melissa said sincerely, pulling her second son into a tight embrace. “I’ll call him when I get off work, maybe we can go for dinner later.”

“Somewhere with healthy options though!” Stiles said ever loyal, catching the roll of Melissa’s eyes as she heard the speech for the millionth time.

“I’ll make sure to feed him in the forest, Stiles, now go home and do whatever teenagers do these days. Out, out!”

“Love you too!” Stiles shouted over his shoulder as he ran out the hospital doors, turning back to wave at her and almost taking out a small elderly woman in the process.

“Kids,” one of the other attendants’ said watching the exchange with a smile.

“Tell me about it.”

***

_“On scale of one to ten, how willing would you be to go to the ocean?”_

_“Stiles, I took you to the beach last week,” Derek said with an exasperated sigh, looking up from the book he was reading and shaking his head._

_“No, you went with all of us to the beach last weekend, you and I need some time to bond, Derek.”_

_“Stiles, you’ve been at my place for the last three hours, you were here yesterday with Malia and the day before because you were convinced you had lost your sock here, which doesn’t even make sense for the record and you stayed for two hours helping me make lunches for the week. I see you all the time.”_

_“Are you saying you don’t want to go to the beach with me then?” Stiles asked with a pout, tilting his head to the side and blinking his long lashes, knowing very well that it would help his case._

_“I have things to do, Stiles. Why don’t you ask Malia?”_

_“Malia is spending time with her dad today, Scott is with Kira, Lydia is studying for her AP exams for the fall, Parrish and my dad are at work and Braeden is Braeden and she’s always coming and going. That leaves you.”_

_“Joy.”_

_“Fine, but when I drown you only have yourself to blame,” Stiles huffed, partially giving up on convincing the older man to go to the beach._

_“Let’s get real, Stiles. If you are going to die it’s going to be because you got eaten by a great white shark,” Derek retorted, gently turning down the corner of the page he was on and tossing his book to the side as Stiles stammered out an answer._

_“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!” He near shouted, imaging what it would be like to be eaten by a great white shark. Not pleasant he would assume._

_“No, but I feel better about going now,” Derek said with a laugh as he stood from the bed and walked over to his cupboards, pulling out a pair of swim trunks and rifling through for a towel,_

_“I hate everything about you,” Stiles said with a glare at Derek’s head, squawking when he chucked a towel for each of them at his face._

_“I’ll buy you a snow cane if it will make you feel better,” Derek retorted._

_“Have I ever told you I appreciate everything about your big handsome face?” Stiles asked as he followed Derek out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen where he already had a picnic basket packed and shovels to build a sand castle knowing Derek would eventually cave._

_“Once or twice. Also, if you try and bury me again I am going to feed you to the shark myself,” Derek said, eyeing the toy shovels with distaste as he recalled waking up from his nap covered in sand with a flag blowing in the breeze near his belly button._

_“You looked beautiful as a sand castle though, Derek! You made it prettier!”_

_“And you’ll look beautiful as shark bait I am sure.”_

_“You’d miss me too much to feed me to the sharks,” Stiles replied, ignoring the somewhat pleading of his tone as he tried to talk his friend out of murdering him in the ocean._

_“I guess we’ll see.”_

***

“Hey Dad,” Stiles said with a smile later that night as the Sheriff walked in the door, his demeanour decidedly more relaxed and at ease then when he left for work. “Long day?”

“Melissa called, wanted to go for supper and chat,” the Sheriff said in reply, dropping his bag off at the door and walking into the kitchen where Stiles was already fixing him up a drink. “I thought she was going to tell me she didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Did she?” Stiles asked, pouring the whiskey into a glass and adding ice. 

“You know she didn’t.” the Sheriff said fondly. “She told me you came to see her today, you didn’t need to do that son, we would have figured it out eventually on our own.”

“I know dad, but you both deserve to be happy. Mom would have wanted you to be happy you know? It’s not fair that the only reason you guys are struggling to talk to each other is because no one is trying to kill us lately, how messed up is that? I think she just needed to be reminded that she gets to have her happy ending too and I am really glad it’s with you dad, though I do wish you had told me sooner.”

“Son, what did I do to deserve a son like you?” the Sheriff asked with complete seriousness, pulling Stiles into a bear hug that rattled his bones and warmed his heart. “Your mother would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, smiling into the hug despite himself.

“Without a doubt.”

***

_“Stiles.”_

_“Mmmph.”_

_“Stiles.”_

_“Shhh, it’s too early,” Stiles mumbled into the pillow, turning his face away from the sun that was now streaming through his window without permission._

_“Stiles, its 8:30, get up.”_

_“On a Saturday!” Stiles said indignantly, barely cracking an eye to glare at Derek before pulling the blanket over his head. “Why are you in my room at 8:30 on a Saturday morning is someone dying?”_

_“I missed you,” Derek deadpanned, his facial expression showing he was clearly not amused from what Stiles could see from the crack between the covers and the pillowcase. “Did you forget what day it was?”_

_“No, it’s Saturday,” Stiles stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and Saturdays are for sleeping and avoiding the sunlight and OH MY GOD ITS SIX FLAGS DAY!”_

_Stiles shot up from under the covers, rushing over to the calendar on his wall with no regard for the fact that he had a significant lack of clothing on, pointing his finger at today’s date which was circled in red pen, the words “Six Flags Day with Derek” written in bold letters in the square as Derek tried to not look down, failing despite himself._

_“Why didn’t you make me up sooner?” Stiles cried in shock and horror, scrambling to pull pants on, still seemingly unaware of his current state of undress or not caring enough that he was baring himself to Derek who had turned a frightening shade of pink all the way to the tips of his ears as Stiles continued babbling on. “…and we’ll get cotton candy and go on that roller coaster that spins around like eight times and we could go on the log ride if it gets too hot and we’ll get chicken fingers to share and fries and we could play bumper cars and it’s going to be great!”_

_“First off, I am not getting you cotton candy because you are hyper enough without it and secondly, your pants are on backwards and you aren’t wearing any underwear,” Derek pointed out, trying not to smile when Stiles narrowed his eyebrows at him, glancing down at his lower body to confirm that yes, what Derek had said was true, looking back up and eyes widening when he realized the full weight of Derek’s words._

_“I was sleeping naked wasn’t I?”_

_“You were.”_

_“And I jumped out of bed, also naked, and ran across my room displaying my whole body to you like some fashion forward runway model?”_

_“You did,” Derek nodded seriously, enjoying this back and forth for a reason he could not explain._

_“And you did not jump me or vomit which I will take as a good sign.”_

_“I did not, no.”_

_“What are the chances we can pretend this never happened and go on with our lives?” Stiles asked, grabbing a pair of boxer briefs from his stand and a clean shirt while he was at it._

_“Absolutely none.”_

_“Can I have cotton candy now?”_

_“I will consider it.”_

***

“Can we talk?”

Stiles turned his head to see Malia biting her lip as she so often did when she needed to have a serious conversation, resorting back to her more animalistic habits as Stiles angled himself better on the couch at his place.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“When we were out with everyone earlier, did you notice anything off?”

“Um, no, should I have?” Stiles asked with a frown, his brows furrowing as he tried to think of anything out of place when the group went bowling earlier that evening.

“Stiles, I cut my hair six inches shorter and you didn’t even notice!” Malia said with a sigh of exasperation, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

On second look, Malia had indeed cut her hair six inches shorter, a bob that curled around and framed her face, showcasing her sharp cheeks and the earrings that Stiles had bought her for their one year anniversary way back when.

“I...no, I didn’t notice,” Stiles admitted, feeling his lips downturn and seeing the tears pricking at the back of his girlfriend’s eyes, knowing that her tears were not because he didn’t notice her new haircut, but that he hadn’t cared enough to notice significant changes about said girlfriend.

“Why are we even seeing each other, Stiles? You clearly don’t love me.”

Stiles felt as the pain from her words seared through his chest, biting at his own lip to muffle the sound that escaped his lips despite himself as he looked at his hands which were curled anxiously in his lap.

“I’m always going to love you, Malia,” he whispered eventually, chancing a look up to see tears’ streaming down his soon to be ex’s face. “I promise you I will always love you, but…”

“But?” she prodded, wiping deftly at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“But I’m not in love with you,” Stiles responded, ensuring to hold her gaze as he said it, knowing she at least deserved that much from him while he broke her heart.

“What’s the difference?” she asked the tone of her voice cruel with hurt.

“The difference is that you will always hold a special place in my heart for everything we’ve been through and everything you’ve done for and with me since I met you,” Stiles started, belatedly realizing that he was crying himself, the words harder to say than he had imagined, thinking he had more time to prepare what he was going to say. “But lately I’ve realized that you and I want different things in life and that’s okay. You deserve to have a great life, Malia. I just don’t think what you are looking for in life is what I am looking for anymore. I don’t get to hold you back.”

“What makes you think we can’t make it work?” she countered, her eyes red-rimmed from her tears.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to spend the rest of your life with me,” Stiles said sternly, knowing it needed to be said and hating himself for saying it all the same.

“I…I…I love you,” she stammered, avoiding the question altogether.

“I think we are in the same boat, Malia. We both love each other, but we aren’t IN love with each other. I think part of it was that I was the first person that was there for you after you turned back to a human and we forged a connection, but there are other people in this world. I know you want to go to parties and dance and make new friends and go on adventures. I just want to graduate and start living a normal life for a change.”

“So what, does this mean we can’t be friends anymore?” Malia asked harshly, her tone turning defiant and Stiles found himself smiling despite his best attempts to cover up.

“Of course not, you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life missy,” Stiles said with a shaky laugh, reaching forward and pulling Malia into her arms, her instinctive nuzzle into his neck oddly comforting though it no longer meant anything more to him. “When you eventually get married and settle down I am going to be at your wedding and at all of your kids’ births and I am going to be the greatest uncle any of them are ever going to have. But that’s all I can be for you, if you’ll have me.”

“Okay,” she whispered eventually into his neck, her tears slowing as she came to terms with his words, acknowledging that he was right, even if it was hard to hear right now.

“Can I ask you something then?” She asked a few minutes later, still lying in his arms though both of them had stopped crying for the time being.

“Of course.”

“Was there someone else?”

Stiles bit his lip as he thought over his response, his mind flashing back through the last few months, through the shared glances and the gentle touches, the quiet moments in the dead of the night and the inside jokes that made him smile sadly even at the thought. He thought about the secrets that had been shared, the way he had opened up so completely, not thinking of the consequences and he thought of the way he felt at the end of it all, as if a piece of him was missing.

“Not anymore.”

***

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

_Stiles’ birthday came the morning after a particularly nasty run-in with a feral wolf from a neighbouring territory. Scott had come across it on his nightly run and had called for back-up when he realized that the other werewolf was mostly likely sick if the foam flying from his mouth slick with blood and disease was any indication._

_No one had been seriously hurt, all the supernaturals healing from the scratches. Malia, Kira, Liam and Scott were with Deaton, tending to their injuries and caring for the sick werewolf as he healed, Deaton giving him a concoction to bring him back to his senses. Peter miraculously decided to help, he and Argent calling around their networks to try and find what pack the wolf belonged to, the arrowhead in the wolf’s thigh a sign that he had been poisoned and was not out of control by choice. The Sheriff and Melissa were helping out at the hospital as their new friend the feral werewolf had happened across a group of campers in his wild state and the both of them were busy taking care of the after-effects and Lydia was with Parrish trying to clean up the scene and hide some of the more “interesting” pieces of evidence to cover their backsides when the rest of the police force arrived to clean up after their diversion._

_Stiles rolled over in his bed, knowing that no one had intentionally forgotten it was his birthday and already feeling bad knowing full well how guilty his dad was going to feel when he eventually remembered later in the day when he got home from work, his friends likely to have similar reactions._

_Deciding not to feel sorry for himself, Stiles pushed himself out of bed, walking to the bathroom and jumping in the shower, getting out and getting dressed before lazily walking down the stairs, phone in hand as he casually scrolled through the couple of Facebook messages he had gotten from some of his teammates and classmates, their generic “Happy bday!” not quite cutting it on this lonely morning._

_The smell of bacon hit Stiles first, his nose scrunching as he registered the smell of eggs and bacon and cooking bread, the sizzling of the pan quizzical as he tried to figure out who was in his kitchen as he neared. Peering around the corner it took all his strength not to gasp in surprise when he saw Derek working furiously over the stove, carefully flipping over two pancakes and then switching to the other pan and turning over the bacon before grabbing a cup from the cupboard and pouring coffee from the freshly brewed pot, briefly turning around to place the hot cup on the table and noticing Stiles for the first time._

_“Morning birthday boy,” Derek said with a smile, turning back to the stove and testing the bottom of the pancake to see it a light golden brown, dropping it back down in the pan before walking over to the fridge to grab the syrup, smiling again at Stiles as he walked back to the table which Stiles belatedly realized was decked out with a cheesy happy birthday table cover and a candle that said 18 that was precariously balanced in an actual candle holder._

_“I…” Stiles managed to stammer, looking at Derek as if he had grown two heads as he deftly turned all the burners off, slipping the pancakes, bacon, eggs and ooh, sausages, onto a plate and putting it on the table, that same small smile on his face the entire time._

_“There’s pancakes,” Stiles noted, kicking himself for not being able to think of anything better to say_

_“And bacon, sausages, eggs, toast and coffee,” Derek said with a slightly larger grin, Stiles noticing the second plate that was across from his for the first time, laden with the same ingredients as his own._

_“What’s all this for?” Stiles managed to get out as the smell of pancakes drew him closer to the table, pulling out his chair and sinking down as Derek put a dollop of whipped cream on Stiles’ pancakes and poured thick syrup all over his meal exactly as Stiles liked it, ignoring the question._

_“Oomph,” was the best Stiles could manage as he hungrily reached for his knife and fork, barely giving time for Derek to move away, cutting into the pancake and sausage at the same time and shoving it in his mouth, groaning audibly when he realized Derek had gotten his favourite brand of meat from the market out of town. “I think I love you.”_

_With a laugh and a shake of his head Derek followed suit, digging into his meal with more delicacy than Stiles would have warranted, already done his first egg and piece of sausage, shoving as much food into his mouth as humanly possible, somewhat considering if he could get a piece of toast in with the pancake and piece of bacon that currently resided there as he chewed._

_“Seriously dude, this is delicious and this sausage is heavenly,” Stiles said with his mouth full of food, Derek only shaking his head fondly and smiling at the younger man._

_“Everyone deserves the best on their birthday,” is all he said in reply, turning back to his food and biting a piece of bacon in half, using the other side to mop up some stray syrup._

_“No one else seems to have realized it’s my birthday,” Stiles said bitterly, biting harshly on a piece of toast with just the right amount of butter on it._

_“I admit they were all a little preoccupied when I left, but I figured we could spend the day together if you wanted, maybe drive down to Sacramento for the day and see what’s around?”_

_“Dude, that sounds amazing, but…”_

_“Yes?” Derek asked, quirking one eyebrow._

_“Don’t you have plans with Braeden today or have to help with Mr. McChomperson?” Stiles asked, rubbing absently at his wrist where the werewolf had snapped at him sometime during the chasing sequence that inevitably happened deep in the woods in the  
middle of the night._

_“Stiles,” Derek started, making sure he had the other man’s full attention. “There is no where I would rather be than with you on your birthday. Everyone else will remember later when they’ve gone home and gotten some sleep, until then, let’s make the most of the fact you are now a consenting adult and go for a ride.”_

_“Why does that sound oddly kinky?” Stiles said, his brain-to-mouth filter lacking as it so usually was as Derek burst into laughter across the table, standing up to grab a napkin for the both of them before settling down and taking a sip from his coffee._

_“What do you want to do today, Stiles?” Derek asked in way of ignoring his earlier question, looking at him with an oddly intense expression._

_“All the things,” Stiles said in reply, pushing his now empty plate away from him and feeling full in a way that reached far past the fact he had just ate and leaned more towards the strange feeling that was taking hold of his heart from the kind gesture._

_“Cause that’s helpful.”_

***

“Canadians are allowed to drink when they are eighteen,” Stiles pleaded, looking longingly at the beer that the Sheriff was cruelly carrying away from him.

“It’s a shame we aren’t Canadian then isn’t it?” the Sheriff retorted, putting the beer back in the fridge and pulling out a can of pop much to Stiles’ distaste.

“Don’t you think 21 is a little too old though dad?” Stiles tried, aiming for a new way to convince his father to bring back the beer.

“Yes, but until such a time when the law changes, you will not be drinking in this household.”

“That’s no fair, dad!” Stiles cried, throwing his hands up in the air though he knew it wasn’t going to do himself any good. He recognized the look on his dad’s face and that look meant he was likely to lose this conversation and probably shouldn’t bring up the few times he had raided his dad’s stash when he was working a double and therefore less likely to notice.

“Son, don’t think I don’t know about the time Derek took you for drinks on your eighteenth birthday while you two were off gallivanting in Sacramento. Or the times you drank at your friends’ house.”

“We were not gallivanting,” Stiles muttered, ignoring the familiar feeling in his chest he got every time Derek was mentioned these days. “Also, Derek is almost worse than you because he wouldn’t even let me have pop, something about needing to have a paying job to be able to afford life’s luxuries, he made me have water for the entire day, water Dad!”

“Stiles, that kid dotes on you, admit that he at least took you for coffee and spoiled you rotten on your birthday.”

“There was some spoiling yes,” Stiles admitted, looking back at the closed fridge with a sigh, “but I assure you that there was no drinking allowed on his watch. Something about not wanting to get shot.”

“See, I always thought he was a good man,” the Sheriff said with a fond look on his face.

“You arrested him for suspected murder three times dad,” Stiles pointed out, smiling when the Sheriff at least had the decency to blush.

“Let’s not talk about that,” the Sheriff acquiesced. “I’m glad he took care of you though and didn’t let you drunk or get too wild. I’m glad someone was there for you that day…”

“Dad, don’t worry about it!” Stiles pressed, not realizing just how guilty his dad had felt the next day after his birthday when he had realized he had forgotten, worse still when he clued in that when Derek had even called to ask if they could go on a day trip and he still hadn’t recognized what day it was. “We’ve been over this. Derek spoiled me rotten and the surprise party you held the next week was awesome! There is nothing to worry about, nothing at all, I had a great day and a great party and that’s all that matters!”

“I know son,” the Sheriff said with a harsh sigh, “I just hate knowing that I wasn’t there for you when you needed it, too busy with work to even remember the date.”

“You’re always there for me,” Stiles said sincerely as he stood and rounded the table, meeting the Sheriff in the middle for an extended hug. “You’re the best dad in the whole entire world, never forget that.”

“Alright son. I just love you so much I hope you know that?”

“I know dad. Love you too.”

***

_“Okay –“_

_“Stiles.”_

_“What?”_

_“Please don’t.”_

_“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stiles said with a grin, starting at Derek who had purple clips in his hair and pink mismatched nail polish on his nails to match the blobs of the stuff that had made their way onto his shirt. “I was just going to comment how beautiful you looked today.”_

_With a sigh Derek began unclipping the berets from his hair, seemingly not noticing the picture Stiles was able to snap and post as his background for his phone._

_“How did you get this, erm…makeover, shall we say?” Stiles quizzed, enjoying the look on Derek’s face showing how uncomfortable he was with this conversation._

_“Stiles, what did you think I did all day before you got to know me?” Derek asked, reaching under his sink to pull out nail polish remover much to Stiles’ delight._

_“I don’t know, stand in corners, bench press small children, eat raw chickens,” Stiles said gleefully, carefully dodging the wet cotton ball that Derek half-heartedly threw his way as he muttered out an answer._

_“Sorry?”_

_“First off, rude. Secondly, I work with kids, Stiles. I help at a local day home in the town over, there is a little girl there named Suzie who always wants to play dress up and what am I supposed to say? She’s only three so she usually ends up winning out, thus the reason I have nail polish remover stashed under my sink.”_

_“Dude, really?” Stiles asked in surprise, trying to imagine what Derek was like around kids._

_“It was Laura’s idea,” Derek said carefully after a moment, his tone giving away the anguish he was feeling at talking about his deceased sister. “After the fire when we moved to New York she was missing our family and all the cousins who died, so she went to a local day care and asked if she could help. After a few weeks she managed to convince me to go with her, it uh…it helped. With the loss and such.”_

_“It must mean a lot to you,” Stiles said softly, enjoying this glimpse into Derek’s life, surprised though at how tender of a moment the two were having._

_“It does,” Derek nodded seriously, finishing with his fingers and washing his hands under the stream of water, turning to face Stiles when he was done as he leaned against the edge of the counter. “It makes me feel closer to her.”_

_“Did you have a lot of cousins,” Stiles asked gravitating closer to the older man, “beyond Jack and Jamie?”_

_“Jack was 6 and Jamie was 5,” Derek said in lieu of an answer. “There was also Meera who was 4 and then Bella who was 8, my mom, dad, my aunt Olivia who was Peter’s wife, their unborn, my grandpa James and then my mom’s brother, Caleb.”_

_“Peter had a wife?” Stiles said quietly, thinking back on his interactions with the werewolf and realizing how unfair he had been, not realizing he had been married with a kid on the way._

_“She was really nice,” Derek said softly, his eyes distant as he talked about his family. “She always used to take Laura, Cora and I to the park when we were younger and then we’d come home and she’d make these amazing peanut butter and jam sandwiches for us while we told our mom and dad about our day. She was good for Peter, she made him happy, not that I remember what that’s like anymore.”_

_“You or him?” Stiles asked, sensing an undertone to that statement._

_“Both, in some ways,” Derek replied, looking back up at Stiles. “I’m just lonely, so is he.”_

_“What about Braeden?” Stiles countered. “What about Scott and Peter and Argent and me?”_

_“Argent has shot me so many times that any tentative friendship we have is only that – tentative. Scott might pretend he likes me, but I think we all know he’d rather I was gone. Peter is Peter, he’s family, but I don’t trust him and Braeden is…”_

_“Is?”_

_“I think she’s hiding something from me,” Derek admitted, his brows furrowing as he said it. “She’s pretty aloof about what she’s been doing. At first I thought it was on account of her job, but then I realized she was going on ‘trips’ for long periods of time and coming back and pretending like she hadn’t just been gone for three weeks. She never tells me anything and whenever I confront her about it she manages to brush it off. She’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think she’s my happily ever after.”_

_“What is?” Stiles asked after a moment with only a hint of hesitation._

_“I’m not sure I even deserve one.”_

***

The graveyard was quiet as Stiles and his dad entered, making their way along the familiar path to his mom’s resting place, flowers in hand and faces grave as they walked.

The tombstone came into view as they crested the hill, sitting at the base of the tree next to where Claudia Stilinski was buried, tears already forming as Stiles looked at where his mom had been laying for the past ten years, gone for over half of Stiles’ life.

“Hi mom,” Stiles started, moving closer and placing his hand against the smooth marble, tracing the letters in his mom’s name. “I miss you.”

“Scott’s been good. He’s got a new girlfriend, her name is Kira and they are really happy together. She’s not Allison by any means, but she makes him happy. She’s supernatural as well, so they work well together and she understands his struggle which is nice.”

“Malia and I broke up a few days ago,” Stiles said, his dad looking at him in surprise as he did as Stiles hadn’t told him since his father had been working double shifts all week to be able to take the full weekend off as the two did every year at this time. “We decided to be friends. I think I realized that I love her, but not in the way that she or I need, so I broke it off. I think maybe it’s because I learned a different kind of love and I wanted it so bad that when I lost it nothing else felt good enough anymore. It didn’t seem fair for her to be with me when I didn’t love her like that.”

“Oh Stiles,” the Sheriff murmured, moving forward and pulling his son into his arms as he finally started to cry, realizing the loss of all three people he had loved. “It’s okay son.”

“I miss you mom,” Stiles started again after he managed to calm himself down, talking through the tears. “I wish you were here to come to my lacrosse games and scold Scott and me for staying up to late and talking to me about my relationship problems and giving me advice. I bet you’d know what to do or what to say about everything. I bet you’d know what that note meant and where he was and what he was doing and if he was okay.”

“I wish everyone would stop leaving me,” Stiles admitted quietly as he finished up, hugging his dad a little tighter as the Sheriff started talking to his wife instead, telling her about Melissa and how he thought the two of them would get along, telling her about all the new deputies they had hired on and how Mrs. Robinson still asked him if he was cleaning behind his ears which was a joke from when she was still alive. 

As Stiles listened to his dad talking to his wife about everything that had happened in his life he found his gaze drifting down the hill towards the edge of the cemetery where he could see the gated area, knowing now the identities of the eleven bodies buried inside, thinking of the first time he and Derek ever truly bonded.

***

_The graveyard appeared empty as Stiles walked up the hill in the dead of the night, having hopped the fence at the entrance. He was having troubles sleeping again, the nightmares gripping him with terror every time he closed his eyes and so he had decided to come and visit with his mom and talk to her about how screwed up his life was._

_Stiles sat for over an hour just catching his mom up on the nemeton and the drownings and the fights and meeting new friends, past going to Mexico to rescue Scott, about how Derek could shift fully now and about how he was worried about the future. When he eventually stood up to leave and check the time he realized it was past two in the morning and if his dad checked in on him he would be worried sick._

_As he started down the hill he saw the light out of the corner of his eye, swivelling his head to see the gated area on the edge of the cemetery that he had always passed but never gone in to look at. From his vantage point he could see someone sitting against the main tombstone, the one that had all the names listed on it presumably and with his curiosity piqued Stiles made his way down the hill._

_The figure was facing the opposite way from him, but as Stiles neared he froze as he recognized the voice, listening carefully as Derek talked to his family. Slowly Stiles began to make his way forward, stopping again when Derek’s voice suddenly cut off, his head peering around the edge of the tombstone, his face oddly vulnerable as he got caught sitting in the graveyard late at night._

_“I can leave,” Stiles said in way of greeting, coming to stop at the gate into this part of the cemetery as he and Derek stared at each other._

_“What are you doing here?” Derek responded, his voice chalk full of emotion, an emotion that Stiles could easily place from experience._

_“I couldn’t sleep so I came to talk to my mom,” Stiles answered, swallowing thickly around the blockage in his throat that came with talking about his mother. “You?”_

_“Same,” Derek said and if Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say that it looked as if Derek was crying._

_The two stared awkwardly at each other for a few more seconds, Stiles unsure as to what the best move from here was, curious if it would be better to stay, but also knowing that it was dependent on what Derek needed as he wouldn’t leave him if he wanted him to stay._

_“You’re frightened,” Derek muttered quietly, not breaking eye contact with the younger man._

_“I don’t want to interrupt,” Stiles responded just as quietly. “I’ve gotten mad at people for interrupting when I was talking to my mom, I’m sorry I came over I’m just not used to seeing other people in the graveyard, especially not at two in the morning.”_

_“You can stay you know,” Derek said, ignoring the first part of what Stiles had said as he most likely understood what he meant completely. “I’d like you stay.”_

_“Okay,” Stiles whispered, gently opening the gate and stepping through, letting it fall softly close behind him, making his way over to where Derek was sitting, his eyes catching on the list of names that marked the headstone. “How many were there?”_

_“Eleven,” Derek said after a moment. “Twelve if you include Laura, but they said there wasn’t enough room here so she’s buried somewhere else in the graveyard._

_“I…I want to say sorry, but I know that doesn’t help,” Stiles admitted, shifting against the cold ground and coming into contact with Derek’s shoulder, the other man pressing against his weight as if he needed the support. “Did you bring a bouquet of flowers for each of them?”_

_“Yeah, it’s um, today is eight years since the fire,” Derek said, the full weight of his words sinking in as he bit his lip and turned his head away, the tears clearly visible in the moonlight, despite his best attempts to hide them._

_“You don’t need to be strong, Derek,” Stiles started, slowly reaching over and placing his hand on Derek’s knee. “You shouldn’t be strong, not today.”_

_The man’s soft cry broke Stiles’ heart as he watched Derek fall apart at his words, never having seen this side of him before. Even when he was standing at Laura’s graveside he hadn’t seen him like this, but then again, that was just one person and not his entire extended family including his parents and cousins. Derek began to cry in earnest, his breathy gasps punctuating the night air as he cried, Stiles not moving from where he sat, holding onto Derek for dear life, too scared to let go._

_Despite himself, Stiles knew that he was crying, the pain from watching someone he knew falling apart just after he had gone to visit his own family member utterly heart wrenching. Stiles thought about what it would be like if his Dad and Scott and his grandma and grandpa and the one aunt and uncle he knew about had all died at the same time and then tried to imagine what he would be like if he was sitting at their graveside at the eight year anniversary. Squeezing Derek’s knee Stiles pressed himself closer to the older man, hoping that his presence was helping, even just the tiniest bit._

_For a long time the two of them sat there, Derek’s tears eventually tapering off as he began to sniffle, wiping deftly at the back of his eyes with his shirt sleeve, rolling his head back until it came into contact with the stone they were leaning against, his body now fully against Stiles’._

_“How old were you when your mom died?” He asked eventually, not turning to look at Stiles for the answer._

_“I was ten,” Stiles responded, realizing absent mindedly that he was rubbing circles into Derek’s knee. “She died of frontotemporal dementia. Basically her brain was shrinking and she was suffering symptoms of dementia and then one day she just didn’t wake up.”_

_Stiles swallowed again, this time at the much larger blockage in his throat as Derek continued to ask questions about his mother, Stiles assuming that he needed the distraction and answering as honestly as he could, more honestly than he had with anyone else._

_“I was so angry at her for a long time,” Stiles said to answer Derek’s latest question. “I was only nine when she got sick so I wasn’t really able to understand. Because of her dementia she often forgot who I was or thought I was her younger brother or someone else. Sometimes she forgot she even had a kid and I’d come in to visit and she’d ask me if I was lost. I hated seeing her on those days, I didn’t actually hate her but I didn’t understand how she could forget her own kid. My dad tried to explain to me that it was the sickness in her brain so I used to yell at her and tell her I hated that she had gotten sick and I wished she would leave. I think that was one of the last things I said to her before she died and I know I will never forgive myself for that.”_

_“You were just a kid, Stiles,” Derek said softly, leaning against him as Stiles cried noiselessly, knowing what it was like himself. “A week before the accident I got into a fight with my mom about Paige. She didn’t understand what she had meant to me. I never told her what I had done down under the nemeton, Peter took responsibility saying it was him who had ended her life, she never knew it was really me so when she kept saying I would move on eventually I just lost it.”_

_“I told her I hated her and I wished she wasn’t my mother,” Derek said quietly, his hand having gravitated over to Stiles’ leg, holding on gently as Stiles matched his gesture on his own leg. “My dad told me I was being childish, but I was just so angry and so scared that if I told them what happened they would hate me. Laura knew because I told her everything, so she Cora and I went and pitched a tent nearby in the woods and stayed there for a few days.”_

_“When I eventually came back inside my mom wasn’t really talking to me, she just gave me a hug and that was it, things were back to normal. Then the fire happened and afterwards I realized that I had never told her that I didn’t hate her before she was gone and now I can’t go back and fix that. She died thinking I hated her and that’s the biggest regret I will ever have.”_

_“She didn’t die thinking you hated her, Derek,” Stiles said seriously, appreciating the conversation the two of them were having more than anyone could ever possibly imagine, needing to talk about this with someone else who understood completely what loss truly meant. “She knew you loved her. One ill comment isn’t going to change that. You were a teenager and speaking for teenagers’ nationwide I can say that we are pretty dumb. But you loved her; I promise you she knows that.”_

_“I hope so,” Derek whispered, his grip on Stiles’ leg tightening as the both of them drifted off in silence, lost in their own thoughts. When they eventually pulled away it was close to five in the morning, the two of them not saying anything as they stood and made their way back to their cars, Stiles surprised when he realized how close they had parked to each other, clearly too out of his element at the time to have noticed the sleek black Camaro parked under the treeline._

_“Thank you,” Derek said in parting, the only words he needed to say as he slid effortlessly into his car, turning over the engine and waiting for Stiles to get into his own vehicle and start it up. As Stiles pulled away he watched Derek behind him in the mirror, watching as he turned left down the hill as Stiles turned right and drove towards home, entering the house to see his father pacing nervously in the kitchen, phone to his ear which he hung up promptly when he saw his son enter._

_“Where have you been?” the Sheriff shouted, crossing the room and pulling Stiles into a hug which he returned, gripping tighter when his dad tried to pull away, missing the look of surprise on his dad’s face when he wouldn’t let him go._

_“I went to visit mom, I’m sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” Stiles whispered into his dad’s uniform jacket, clinging on even tighter as he said it, his fingers digging painfully into the Sheriff’s skin though he would never complain about having his son safe and in need of his father. “Sorry to scare you like that dad.”_

_“It’s okay son, I love you so much, it’s okay,” the Sheriff whispered back, eventually walking Stiles up to his room when he pulled away, tucking him into bed and sitting on the edge stroking his face gently as he looked down on him with a worried expression._

_“I’ll call the school and tell them you are taking a personal day, get some sleep son.”_

_“Thanks dad,” Stiles muttered, eyes already drifting closed despite the thoughts swirling around in his head, most notably Derek’s face as he cried at the loss of his family. “I love you dad.”_

_“I love you too, son.”_

_As the Sheriff left and Stiles drifted off to sleep, the last thing he remembered was the feel of Derek’s hand on his leg as he grieved, the ghost of his fingers an oddly comforting presence as darkness overtook him._

***

“Dude, where have you been?” Scott said the second Stiles pulled open the door still groggy from sleep, having barely registered the doorbell ringing incessantly as he slept.

“Clearly I was sleeping,” Stiles responded, turning around and walking back inside the house, knowing that Scott was likely to follow him as he did a few seconds later.

“Why have you been avoiding everyone?” Scott asked his voice full of earnest and confusion.

“Where’s Malia been?” Stiles asked to avoid the question, wondering why she hadn’t told them.

“Her and her dad went out of town to visit her aunt, shouldn’t you know that?” Scott said, narrowing his eyes at Stiles as if wondering if his friend was truly that disconnected from things.

“Malia and I broke up,” Stiles said after a moment, somewhat revelling in the look of shock that crossed Scott’s face as it made up for him being a dick, just the teensiest bit.

“I, uh, what? Dude, what are you talking about?” Scott shouted, the expression on his face clearly exhibiting hurt as Stiles knew it would when he eventually got around to telling him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just wanted a few days to myself, man,” Stiles replied as the two entered his room, sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

“Is this because of Derek?” Scott asked angrily, his face contorting at the thought and a sudden burst of anger surged up inside of Stiles at his friend’s words.

“Really, Scott? Really? That’s the first thing you ask me? Not if I am doing okay, or if it was mutual which it was by the way, or if I need anything, but no, the first thing you ask me is it because of Derek? Fuck you Scott.”

Stiles was left panting at the end of his mini-tirade, the blood flowing to his face as he stared at Scott who looked a mixture of a kicked puppy and an angry pit-bull before he finally answered.

“Ever since Derek left you’ve been distant from everyone Stiles. You’ve been disappearing more often, staying out late without telling anyone where you are going, treating Malia and everyone else like shit if anyone so much as mentions Derek’s name and for what? The dude didn’t even like you.”

“Shut up about things you don’t know,” Stiles said furiously, stepping into Scott’s personal space and staring him down. “You don’t know anything about Derek because you never took your head out of your ass long enough to realize that other people had problems besides your own. Don’t you dare tell me how Derek felt about me because I know exactly how he felt because he told me, repeatedly, all the times he was there for me when you weren’t, like my birthday and the anniversary of my mom’s death, which oh yeah, you missed. Get out Scott, get the fuck out of my house.”

Scott stared at Stiles in horror when he finished speaking, whether it was because he realized he had missed the anniversary of Stiles’ mom’s death or because he realized how angry Stiles truly was, but after a few tense seconds passed he slowly made his way backwards out of the room, the front door closing a minute later and his bike starting up as he pulled away, Stiles standing in the same spot as when Scott had left, his eyes boring into the back of Derek’s note on the edge of his nightstand.

“No one understands,” Stiles said to the empty room, his gaze hovering over the note for a few seconds longer before he hurled himself onto the bed and dug under the covers. “No one understands me like you did.”

When Stiles eventually managed to fall asleep it was to dark thoughts and twisted dreams, his fingers curling in the covers as he screamed.

***

_The splash was all that alerted Stiles to his incoming doom as the water breached his head, Derek’s body colliding into his only a few short seconds later, the two of them crashing into the depths of the waves as Stiles flailed in an attempt to get away._

_“What are you doing?” Stiles shrieked when his head broke the surface and he was able to drag in a lungful of air, coughing and wheezing as the salt burned his throat. “You are the worst.”_

_“Should have been paying attention,” Derek said with a smug smile, ignoring the fact his words made no sense._

_“Oh I’m sorry, how dare I not think to look up at the pier that’s TWENTY FEET above my head and think, ‘Wow, I wonder if someone is going to jump on my head.’ I reiterate Derek, that you are the worst.”_

_“You adore me”_

_“I do no such thing,” Stiles said in reply, childishly splashing Derek in the face as he swam away from the pier._

_“Where are you going Stilinski?” Derek asked a few moments later as they swam further and further out into the ocean, Stiles eventually flipping over onto his back and floating in the cold water, a warm breeze causing his skin to goose pimple._

_“Away from the world,” Stiles said in reply, not opening his eyes and missing the look of surprise on his friend’s face._

_“And you thought the middle of the ocean was the best place to do that?”_

_“No, but I just needed some space, it’s so loud over there, I just wanted to think.”_

_“About what?”_

_“Is it wrong of me that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here?” Stiles asked opening his eyes and letting his lower body sink into the waves as he did so, realizing belatedly that he couldn’t touch the ground though Derek apparently could._

_“Of course not, why do you think I went to New York for so long?” Derek replied._

_“You were running though, what if I just want to leave, not away from anything, just to find something better than fearing for my life all the time and being worried about feral wolves and nemetons and devil unicorns?_

_“I’m sensing a theme with the devil unicorns,” Derek noted, his face breaking a little as the corner of his lips quirked up._

_“Let’s not talk about it. I just…do you think there’s more for us than this life?”_

_“Who is ‘us’?”_

_“All of us,” Stiles said after a moment of hesitation, realizing that he may have meant just the two of them though he was unsure what that really meant._

_“Some of us, yes. You do, Stiles. You are going to get into Berkeley and you’re going to college and meet some normal people and fall in love and start a family and ten years from now you are going to look back and realize that you struggled, but you also survived. You’re going to be okay, Stilinski.”_

_“What about you?” Stiles responded, ignoring the swelling in his heart that he had a suspicion was a feeling he shouldn’t be having about the other man._

_“I’m not sure I deserve much more than what I have right now,” Derek replied, placing his feet on the sandy floor as Stiles continued to move lazily around him. “Some days I don’t think I even deserve this much.”_

_“You deserve the world, Derek,” Stiles said sincerely, latching on to Derek’s back._

_“Stiles, why are you pretending to be an octopus?” Derek asked, ignoring Stiles’ remark and the swelling in his own chest._

_“You’re taller and my legs are tired so you can support me while we go back.”_

_“Stiles, you are maybe an inch shorter than me.”_

_“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it Hale?”_

_With a huff and a smile, Derek reached down and grabbed onto Stiles’ legs, making sure he was secured before he started to walk back to land in silence, deep in thought as he considered the younger man’s previous words._

_“I applied to Stanford,” Stiles said after a few minutes as Derek continued to walk, his head against the older man’s shoulders, face buried in Derek’s neck. “New York too.”_

_“You did?” Derek said in surprise, stopping his motions and turning to look at the man on his back who titled his head up and hooked his chin over his shoulder so they were face-to-face, breathing in each other’s air._

_“After everything began to calm down I started to think ‘what if there was something more for me?’ I applied on a whim and I know I don’t stand a chance, but I’d like to think that maybe one day I could get away for a bit and live my life.”_

_“They’d be stupid not to take you Stiles. When do you find out if you get in?”_

_“I applied for early admission, so theoretically I could hear as soon as December, though I have until next May to decide what I want to do.”_

_“Stiles, that’s amazing,” Derek said honestly, unhooking the younger man’s legs from around his waist so he could turn and wrap him in a warm hug, the two of them drifting together in the waves for a few moments, the sounds of laughter heard softly in the  
distance._

_“Don’t tell anyone else,” Stiles said eventually, pulling away to make eye contact with Derek. “I know I am not a shoe in and I don’t really want to start having that conversation before I need to on why I would want to go. Can this just be between us?”_

_“Your secret is safe with me,” Derek swore, leaning forward and placing his head against Stiles’ for the briefest of moments, turning so Stiles could hook his legs around his waist once more as he continued back to the shore._

_“Hey Stiles, why are you getting a piggy back from Derek?” Scott shouted to them as they neared his arms around Kira as they splashed in the ocean._

_“What can I say,” Stiles responded neatly avoiding the question, hopping off Derek’s back when his waist had emerged from the waves, running out of the water and spraying sand all over Malia and Braeden who had been sun tanning on their plush towels,  
Derek, Scott and Kira shaking their heads at him as the girls’ shrieks filled the air._

_“He’s so weird,” Kira said with a laugh, smiling at Derek who returned the smile easily._

_“True, but he’s also the best.”_

***

“Son,” the Sheriff said as greeting as he walked into Stiles’ room, sitting on the edge of the bed as Stiles stared curiously at the letter in his hands.

It had been about a month and Stiles wasn’t talking to the rest of the group, choosing instead to talk to some people in his advanced placement classes, practicing for his exams in May over lunches and going to the station after work to help out his dad so he was constantly busy. Generally Stiles was doing okay, but what pissed him off the most was that everyone seemed to be waiting for him to apologize, as if this was somehow his fault.

“What do you got there pops?” Stiles asked, leaning forward and freezing when he saw not one, but two letters in his Dad’s hands, two letters he hadn’t told his dad were coming.

“Stiles, these letters are from Stanford and New York University,” the Sheriff said astutely, though all Stiles could think was that the letters were more like packages and he was freaking himself out because packages usually meant only one thing.

“Holy shit did I get in?” Stiles said in surprise, his breath catching as his dad passed them over to him, his face a mix of pride and concern as he did so.

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied?” the Sheriff asked as Stiles reached into his bedside drawer and extracted a small blade, hesitating over the seal of the envelope.

“Because I didn’t think I’d get in and I didn’t want you to hate me for wanting to go,” Stiles said sheepishly, looking up as his dad and seeing how utterly wrecked he looked to hear those words from his son’s mouth.

“Stiles…son, I am so fricking proud of you for everything you do and how you take care of everyone else first before you take care of yourself. I am so much more proud of you for applying because I know these programs require an entrance essay which means while all of your friends were falling apart and fighting for their lives, while you were fighting for your life, you still managed to fight for your future in the only way you knew how, by using your intelligence to get yourself out of a bad situation. You should NEVER think I would hate you for chasing the future you deserve more than any other eighteen year old man in this world, Stiles. If you want to go to NYU then we are going to damn well make sure you get to go to NYU, even if it means me coming with you if that’s what you would want.”

“Wait, you would come with me?” Stiles asked in surprise, wiping at the back of his eyes from where he lay in his father’s lap, having moved over sometime during his father’s speech.

“Stiles, I would go to the end of the earth if it meant seeing you happy again,” the Sheriff said sincerely, hugging his son tighter to his chest as the two of them cried manful tears, their sniffles all to be heard in the room. “Now come on then, let’s see what they say!”

Stiles slowly sat up, reaching back to grab the blade off the nightstand and turning back to pick up the Stanford package, slicing the top and pulling out the first piece of paper and scanning through the words quickly, his expression completely neutral before he put it back and did the same for the other package, reading through the first page entirely, his expression blank before sliding that page back into the envelope as well and putting both packages and the blade on the nightstand table.

“Well?” The Sheriff asked nervously, Stiles’ expression having yet to change.

“I got in!” Stiles shouted after another second’s hesitation, launching himself at his father who swept him up into his arms, his tears this time tears of happiness as he realized that the impossible was suddenly one step closer than it had been the day before.

“Oh of course you did!” The Sheriff shouted, hugging him tighter than he ever had before, bursting with pride as his only child got accepted to two of the most prestigious universities in the country. “Of course you did because you are my son. My son…”

“I love you so much Dad,” Stiles whispered against his chest, torn between extreme elation and partial guilt. “More than anything in the world...”

“But?” the Sheriff asked, picking up on the hanging sentence.

“I wish Derek was here so I could tell him.”

“Did he know?”

“Of course he knew,” Stiles said sadly. “He knew everything that was important to me.”

***

_“What was New York like?” Stiles asked absentmindedly as the two sat in the backyard of Stiles’ house with their shirts off while they lounged with their feet in a small child’s pool._

_“The best decision I ever made,” Derek replied easily, cracking one of his eyes open to regard Stiles carefully, noting the tense line of his shoulders as he lay on his chair with his eyes closed, taking a quick sniff to gauge his emotions._

_“Wasn’t it hard? To be in a city that big?” Stiles asked cautiously, not sure what he was and wasn’t allowed to ask Derek about his time in New York._

_“At first it was yeah,” Derek said quietly, knowing instinctively what Stiles was asking. “The smells and sounds were so overwhelming I used to just hide in my room with one of Laura’s sweaters balled up underneath my head so that I could breathe her in and not have to worry about the outside world. We used to go for walks and I thought I was going to shift so many times, but every day she’d make me go for another one. When we started we’d get maybe two blocks, but by the time I left we’d be walking 10 or 15 miles a day. It actually helped me be a better alpha because she forced me to understand my feelings and compartmentalize. Now I can decide what I want to hear or smell at any given time and I can focus in on certain noises or feelings which is why I was able to find you so fast a few weeks ago because I knew what I was looking for.”_

_“Wait, that’s how you found me?” Stiles said seriously, opening his eyes and sitting up in his chair to look at Derek who was already looking at him as he had been for the last few moments (and most of the afternoon if he was being honest with himself)._

_“Yes.”_

_“Well, what do I smell like?”_

_“Hm,” Derek said quietly, trying to think of how to explain it to Stiles without freaking him out. “You smell musky, like a sweaty teen, but with a hint of the forest and gunpowder and vanilla mixed in as well. If you are reading before I come over, you smell like paper and I can always tell what kind of food you had that day because you always manage to spill on yourself.”_

_Stiles was quiet for a few moments and Derek allowed himself to take a deep breath, sensing the hesitation and…embarrassment?_

_“So, you can smell everything?” Stiles asked as his cheeks flushed pink. “Even if it was from a few minutes or hours before?”_

_“Yes?” Derek replied questioningly, quirking one eyebrow at the younger man who he inconspicuously caught looking down at his crotch re-_

_“Oh. Yes, I mean sometimes it’s stronger than other times, but I can also hear your breathing long before I can smell anything, so if you are a bit...flustered, I just take my time and distract myself.”_

_“All this time, you’ve been coming over to my house knowing that I’ve been jacking off and you never thought to say anything?” Stiles shouted his arms flailing as his face went bright red, the mortification clear by his actions._

_“Stiles, everyone jacks off, it’s totally normal and you’re 18, I think I’d be more worried if you weren’t. Also, how exactly does that conversation go? ‘Hey Stiles, have a nice wank? Anyways, should we head out, the girls should be almost ready.’”_

_“I hate everything about you,” Stiles grumbled into his arms which he had now thrown over his face. “This is mortifying.”_

_“If it makes you feel any better, all of the supernatural’s can smell it as well, so it’s not just me,” Derek said with a lavish grin on his face, cackling when Stiles dropped his arms and levelled a glare in his direction._

_“Yes, Derek, because THAT is going to make me feel so much better.”_

_“You never know, could just be that it’s me,” Derek replied with a casual shrug. “I don’t know how your brain works.”_

_“If anyone had to know, I guess I’d be okay if it was you,” Stiles said quietly, dropping his hands from his face. “Still kind of weird though that a few months ago you hated me and now we are talking about the smell of my jizz while hanging out in my backyard. How far we’ve come...”_

_“I never hated you, Stiles. That’s the problem.”_

***

Stiles was laying on his bed staring at the ceiling and wondering what Derek was doing when a knock on his bedroom door startled him out of his reverie. Standing slowly, Stiles moved carefully towards the door, unsure of who could possibly be on the other side as he wasn’t expecting guests and his Dad was currently working a double, meaning he could potentially be facing his impending murder which wasn’t overly comforting.

Grabbing his bat from where it lay near the closet, Stiles carefully grasped the doorknob, positioning the bat to be able to swing if the person on the other side even considered trying anything, before suddenly wrenching the door open and almost taking off the head of his supposed best friend, Scott.

“Whoa, whoa!” Scott shouted, stepping back into the hallway and holding his hands up in a protective gesture as he narrowly missed the swing that likely wouldn’t have done much damage to his overall appearance, but which would have hurt immensely nonetheless.

“Jesus, Scott, what the frick are you doing here?” Stiles asked with heavy annoyance, dropping the bat loudly on the hardwood outside his room and turning to walk back inside and throw himself onto his bed, leaving the door open as a sign of invitation for Scott to enter the room, though he wasn’t sure he really wanted him to come in.

Following him in, Scott stood by the desk for a few tense moments before pulling the computer chair out with an obnoxious squeak and sitting down awkwardly, hands balled tightly in fists in his lap. Stiles could see the tense lines of his friend’s shoulders from where he was sprawled on the bed, but waited to see what he was here for before he decided how he felt about the matter.

“So Lydia got into MIT,” Scott started, splaying his fingers out in front of him before bringing them back together and shaking them anxiously in his lap.

“Wait, what?” Stiles asked in surprise, sitting up without noticing and turning to face Scott. “Since when did she apply to MIT?”

“She said it was around the time that you and Malia broke up, something about how we can’t bank our futures on staying in Beacon Hills for the rest of our lives as your relationship so clearly showed and that we should be looking elsewhere for our futures. Then she gave me a lecture about not having applied to college yet and proceeded to download several veterinarian school applications while simultaneously filling them out for me, all while continuing to lecture me. It was terrifying.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Stiles muttered under his breath, his chest constricting in a manner in which he didn’t completely understand. “But she has a point.”

“I know,” Scott said softly after a few minutes had passed. “But it got me thinking.”

“About?’

“My future. Our future.”

“What about it?” Stiles said tensely, the pressure in his chest increasing.

“Is it bad if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Beacon Hills?” Scott asked hesitantly, looking up at Stiles for the first time in the conversation, his eyes full of fear and uncertainty.

“You don’t? But…seriously?” Stiles stammered, unsure if he was processing correctly the new information that had just been shared. “But you love Beacon Hills.”

“Yes, I do, but I want more Stiles,” Scott said earnestly, unconsciously rolling himself and the chair closer to the bed. “I want to go to school somewhere that’s not here and I want to make new friends and not worry about dying or watching other people dying all the time. I want to go for car rides in the middle of the night and not be covered in blood when I’m done and I want to get an education and fall more in love with Kira and hear about what you’ve gotten up to in New York and come back for Christmas and catch up and just live our lives for once, Stiles!”

“What makes you think we won’t be doing it together?” Stiles asked instantly, unsure of why he was suddenly getting upset at the idea of leaving knowing full well that he had been planning on leaving Scott all along.

“Because you are so much better than anything Kira or I could get into. We aren’t geniuses like you and Lydia. You two are probably the only reason we’ve made it this far, we wouldn’t be here without you guys and everything you’ve sacrificed for us. It’s time that you guys started doing something for yourselves and for you that means pursuing a school that you actually want to go to like Stanford or Yale or NYU.”

Despite himself, Stiles felt a pressure behind his eyes that he had grown unusually accustomed to these last few weeks, the rollercoaster of emotions he had experienced wreaking havoc on his body and leaving his emotions ones for the taking. Standing slowly, Stiles made his way to the other side of the room, grabbing the letters off the top of the dresser and moving robotically back to Scott, passing over both packages without a word and sitting down with lead in his stomach as Scott looked onward questioningly, holding Stiles’ gaze before reaching into the first package and pulling out the contents.

A few seconds later, Stiles saw as Scott’s face morphed as he read the first line congratulating Stiles for being accepted to Stanford University on early admission, his face registering shock, confusion, anger and pride all in the burst of a mere second or two before looking up at Stiles’ blank expression and reaching for the second envelope and doing the same.

“You got a full scholarship to NYU?” Scott said in awe a few moments later, looking up at Stiles with a look of pride etched on his features, the surprise and happiness taking over as he found himself standing, pulling Stiles into a hug and burying his nose in the juncture between his friend’s shoulder and neck.

“I…yeah,” Stiles mumbled into Scott’s shoulder, finally getting his brain to catch up and wrapping his arms around his friend’s body, pulling him in tighter and trying to swallow around the lump that had quickly formed in his throat.

“I’m so proud of you,” Scott whispered into the heavy silence, tightening his hold briefly before stepping back and holding Stiles at arm’s length. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to hate me for wanting to leave,” Stiles said with a sense of déjà vu, recalling the similar conversation with the Sheriff from just a few days ago when the letters had arrived.

“Stiles, I…I’m mad you didn’t tell me you had applied, but I could never hate you for wanting to be happy and getting out of this crazy place. How could you think I would hate you for getting in to one of the best universities in the country? Two in fact!”

“Because it would mean leaving. Mean changing our plans.”

“Stiles…” Scott started again, his face morphing from confusion to understanding in seconds. “I would never in a million years hate you for wanting to pursue your future, even if I hate the idea of you being on the other side of the country and having to try and figure out time zones and stuff and when I can call you between classes, but Kira will probably help me and I can always email Lydia and ask her for help in figuring that stuff out.”

“You know I’ll always answer when you call,” Stiles said fondly, rubbing the back of his hand at his eyes, noticing Scott conspicuously doing the same. “And you’ll be so busy with Kira and classes and making new friends that you won’t even notice I’m not there.”

“You know that’s not true, right?” Scott asked seriously, looking Stiles dead in the eye as he said it to prove he was serious. “You’re my brother Stiles, it’s been hell not having you around these last few weeks; I feel like my second half hasn’t been there. You’re family, that’s never going to change, no matter how far apart we are.”

“You mean that?” Stiles asked wetly, ignoring the sniffle that was much too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Course I do. Brothers’ forever man. That’s never going to change.”

“Even if we are on opposite sides of the country?” Stiles asked hopefully, already knowing the answer by the look on Scott’s face.

“Family means forever, wherever and whenever, Stiles, you should know this,” Scott said chidingly, looking around the room for the first time since entering and letting his gaze fall on the note by Stiles’ nightstand before continuing. “You know, I learned something this last month with you gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I realized something that I had missed these last few months. I think it took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t your best friend anymore, that you had found someone new and I was kind of a dick about it. I felt like I was losing you so instead of doing something about it I thought I’d just push you further away instead, but it was the dumbest decision I’ve ever made and I regret doing that to you when I know you needed someone around.”

“You are always going to be my best friend,” Stiles said in lieu of a proper answer, watching Scott who was still looking at the note from Derek sitting on his bedside table.

“No, I don’t think so. I think we are more brothers than best friends. You know, I think over the last few months I realized that I was being selfish, wanting you to be my family and my best friend, when if I had just realized who was making you happy and how he was making you happy then I would have avoided us so much unnecessary pain.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stiles said, thinking about the times he had spent with Derek flashing through his mind and knowing very well that Scott was right, that the two were more like brothers than best friend’s, had been for quite some time.

“You were in love with him weren’t you?” Scott asked quietly after a moment, avoiding Stiles’ eyes until after he heard the gasp of shock, looking up to see the fear in his brother’s eyes.

“I…”

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Scott said meaningfully, stepping closer to place his hands on Stiles’ shoulders once more. “I didn’t realize it at first, but then Malia told me about your conversation when you broke up and she asked you if there had been anyone else and it became clear. I didn’t see it at first, I thought you two hated each other, but the more I put thought into it the more I realized I just hadn’t wanted to see it at the time and that it had been right there in front of me this whole time. You loved him and then he left and instead of being there for you I was so caught up in my own world that I didn’t notice how badly you were hurting. I’m so sorry Stiles.”

“No,” Stiles said steadily, taking a deep breath before he continued. “You’re wrong.”

“About what? About the fact you were in love with Derek?”

“In thinking I ever stopped.”

***

_Stiles was a deep thinker, always had been and probably always would be and he knew how he could get when he got too deep into a topic, spending hours rationalizing a topic and picking it to pieces until he was satisfied that he understood whatever it was. This also meant that Stiles had a tendency to zone out and stare into space when he was thinking about things, which was consequently why he still hadn’t noticed Derek looming over him for the past four minutes until now._

_“Jesus Christ!” Stiles shouted, throwing himself backwards off his chair and falling to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs. “What on earth are you doing you creep?”_

_“I would like to point out, Stiles, that I said hello when I walked in and am currently carrying a bag of food which you called and asked me for when I said I was coming back from out of town. At no point in these last few minutes do you being oblivious somehow mean I was being a creep.”_

_“I’m not totally sure I agree with that argument as my heart has currently forgotten how to work, but I smell curly fries and I feel I can forgive you for the time being,” Stiles said between breaths, using Derek’s leg to pull himself from the floor, ignoring the older man’s huff of irritation, all while making grabby hands at the bag of food._

_“Thanks Derek, for coming back from your trip early and bringing me food,” Derek started in a whiny voice that Stiles was to assume was him mimicking his own voice. “Oh you’re welcome Stiles, anything for my favourite human. Awe, that’s so sweet, Derek, you shouldn’t have.”_

_“Are you done now?” Stiles said with a raised brow, amused despite himself as Derek continued to mutter under his breath, unpacking the bag of food and distributing it between the two of them, all while berating Stiles’ manners and most of his previous life choices._

_“So is that a no?” Stiles asked a few moments later after Derek had finished spreading out the food and had crumpled the bag up and tossed it in the trash can across the room which was currently beside the dresser and therefore out of Derek’s range of view.  
“Show off.”_

_“I still haven’t gotten a thank you,” Derek muttered, sitting down and taking a ravenous bite into his burger and ignoring the uptick in Stiles’ heartbeat._

_“What do you want from me, for me to drop down on my knees and worship you for bringing me food?” Stiles said snidely, shoving a handful of curly fries into his mouth and noting the pink flush that appeared from under Derek’s beard, brows furrowing  
before Derek replied._

_“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Derek said so quietly that Stiles was surprised he had even heard him, his jaw stopping as he stared at Derek in shock, trying to process what he had said and again noting the colour of his friend’s cheeks, sensing something shifting as he slowly began to finish chewing the food currently in his mouth._

_“Hm,” Stiles heard himself hum, picking up his drink and bringing the straw to his lips, though he wasn’t really conscious of the action and he didn’t actually taste anything going down though somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the fact that Derek had gotten his favourite milkshake and oh frick, Derek knew his favourite milkshake._

_“So what were you thinking about so deeply that you didn’t notice me when I came in?” Derek asked overly calm, shutting down and taking a sip of his own drink and avoiding the look Stiles shot him at the obvious diversion._

_“Funny you should say that,” Stiles said after a moment, a funny expression that Derek couldn’t read on his face. “I was actually thinking about the anatomy of gay sex.”_

_Derek choked forcefully at the last two words, coughing and spitting his milkshake onto his hands as Stiles stared calmly at the older man, his eyes seemingly tearing him apart and looking for…something?_

_“Why on earth were you thinking about that?” Derek shouted, grabbing a napkin from the pile and wiping at his face, his eyes wide and his cheeks going somehow redder than they already were._

_“Well, if you really want to know, I was thinking about the fact that having sex with Malia was nice, but it was kind of…I don’t know, not enough I guess?” Stiles said while shovelling more curly fries into his mouth, having gone into some weird headspace where he was only half processing the current conversation, the other half of his mind freaking out at what he thought Derek had just been implying which meant maybe he wasn’t going crazy and maybe the hope blooming suddenly in his chest wasn’t for naught.._

_“Then it got me thinking about the alternative, which is of course sex with guys, which is sort of weird in a “here, why don’t you put your dick up my ass” sort of way because people poop out of there and that’s kind of really gross, but at the same time there are thousands of dudes who do it so obviously it has to feel sort of good and I mean, I guess I should be including woman because woman can do that too they just have more op-“_

_“Stiles,” Derek said exasperatedly, dropping his burger onto the wrapper in front of him and dropping his head into his hands. “Why can’t you just be normal?”_

_“I was never normal, neither are you,” Stiles said enigmatically, smirking at the expression on Derek’s face who was now peering at him between his thick manly fingers. “Also, you can’t say you’ve never been curious as to what it feels like.”_

_“Stiles, I know what it feels like, which is why you wondering about it is making me feel so damn uncomfortable.” Derek muttered, ignoring the shocked gasp that escaped the younger man’s lips, because yes, he knew the conversation was probably going to go here at some point and also because some sick part of him was hoping it might go somewhere further that involved less clothes and more naked Stiles, which was not something he wanted to analyze too closely at the time being._

_“You’ve had butt sex?” Stiles shouted way louder than Derek would have ever deemed necessary, Stiles’ arms flailing as they so often do, his expression full of shock and confusion and….intrigue?_

_“Yes Stiles, I’ve had butt sex,” Derek said with an over-the-top sigh, shaking his head and rolling his eyes and deciding just to roll with it as he so often did when around the younger man._

_“Like, in the butt?”_

_“Yes, Stiles, that’s usually how sex with guys works.”_

_“So what you are saying is you’ve had a dick in your ass?”_

_“Did you want me to spell it out for you?”_

_“But you’re straight?” Stiles said with a clearly confused expression on his face, picking up his shake and putting it back down, repeating the action a few times before seemingly giving up and moving it out of his own reach._

_“I don’t believe I’ve ever said that,” Derek noted tiredly, not entirely sure if Stiles was freaking out in a good or a bad way, the room chalk full of a range of different emotions._

_“But you are dating Braeden?”_

_“That doesn’t make me straight.”_

_“Doesn’t make you gay either,” Stiles countered._

_“I’m…” Derek started, opening and closing his mouth before deciding how to proceed. “Look Stiles. Not that it matters, but I’ve been with both guys and girls. After Laura died I needed to be close to someone and that led to a lot of random hookups with a lot of random people. It didn’t matter to me at the time if it was a guy or a girl; it was just nice to be close to someone. I can’t say I’m proud of it, but just because I’m with Braeden now doesn’t mean I haven’t been with other people in the past or won’t be with other people in the future.”_

_“So you’re bisexual?” Stiles said almost as soon as Derek was done talking, leaning forward and staring intently at Derek who at this point had absolutely no idea what was going on._

_“Labels are stupid,” Derek said instead of answering the question, grabbing his burger and taking a bite, more so he didn’t have to look at Stiles any longer then actually being hungry, his appetite having disappeared as soon as he made the stupid worshipping comment earlier._

_“So would you ever be with a dude again?” Stiles asked, just as intently as before. “If you weren’t with Braeden?”_

_“Theoretically, yes.”_

_“Would you be with any guy, or would it have to be a specific guy?”_

_“Do you want to sleep with every girl you see?” Derek asked in counter, hoping for a specific answer and dreading it all the same._

_“I’m not really sure I want to be with any girls,” Stiles replied matter-of-factly, refusing to drop Derek’s gaze._

_The silence loomed over them as Derek tried to digest Stiles’ words, forcefully pushing down the feeling blossoming in his chest which he knew was his feelings for the other man which were probably written clearly on his stupid face as he continued to process the fact the man he had a crush on could very well be admitting to being gay which may or may not give him a chance._

_“But you are dating Malia,” Derek said hopelessly, also refusing to drop his gaze._

_“Yes.”_

_“You love her.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“But you’re not in love with her?” Derek guessed, seeing the frown that crossed his friend’s face as he nodded numbly, the frown changing to a look of guilt in the same instance._

_“It’s not what I wanted,” Stiles said quietly, finally admitting to himself that he wasn’t in love with his girlfriend, knowing full well why and who he was actually in love with._

_“What do you want?” Derek asked after a moment of silence, looking back up at Stiles after having dropped his gaze, waiting for him to answer, ears twitching as he heard the sheriff’s car pull into the driveway knowing he was running out of time to get an answer, the sheriff’s voice cutting through the house and startling Stiles who looked at his door in surprise and anger when he realized his dad was home._

_“I…uh,” Stiles stammered, reaching up and pulling tightly at his hair, still looking at Derek, opening his mouth just as the Sheriff walked in, effectively cutting off his response as the Sheriff smiled warmly at the two men, not noticing the tension in the room or choosing to ignore it after a long day of work. “Uh, hey dad.”_

_“Hey boys, come down and help me with the groceries, I’m starving and since you two have apparently already ate, you can make your old man a sandwich and unpack while I kick my feet up,” the Sheriff said, both boys wincing internally at the implied “we” that had come with his sentence as he referred to the two of them as a unit, something they may or may not actually be. “Game’s on soon, we’ll meet in the living room and we can watch it after, eh?”_

_“Yes sir,” both men mumbled, standing from their chairs without looking at each other and walking out of the room, nothing but silence between them as they unpacked the groceries and moved to the living room where they sat on opposite sides of the room, staring resolutely at the television and cheering at all the right places, knowing very well that their chance to admit their feelings was just too little too late._

***

“He left the next day,” Stiles said sadly as he finished recounting the story to his best friend, staring at his hands which were held tightly in his lap.

“So what, he left because he couldn’t handle that you were in love with him?” Scott said angrily despite himself, knowing that’s not what Stiles needed though it was hard not to be mad at the older wolf now that he knew how he had hurt his brother so badly.

“I don’t know what it was, Scott. But I wasn’t expecting that to be the end. I know my dad ruined the moment and everything, but I figured it would just be awkward for a couple of days and then I would get an opportunity to tell him how I felt and he would tell me he felt the same and then we’d try and figure out what to tell Braeden and Malia together, or just keep it a secret and not tell anyone until some time had passed and it didn’t look like we had broken up with them so the two of us could be together.”

“But that’s what it would have been,” Scott said darkly, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone as he thought back on the night that Malia admitted to everyone that they had broken up, prompting Scott to storm over to Stiles’ places in hopes that she was lying and that two of his best friends hadn’t really broken up.

“I never said I was a good person,” Stiles whispered quietly under his breath, his shoulders tensing as he wiped at the back of his eyes, no tears this time, just an overwhelming sense of tiredness washing over him. “I never meant to hurt her.”

The “I never meant to fall in love with him” hung in the air over their heads, not needing to be said as they both knew it was there, Stiles lost in thought at how he could be so dumb while Scott thought back over the last few months and began to understand why Stiles had been so viciously upset at the other man leaving.

“I’m not sure this helps, but I don’t think she was in love with you either,” Scott said after a moment, not entirely sure why he was saying it and if it was magically supposed to help, but when he saw the corner of his friend’s mouth quirk up he knew he had been right to say it.

“I think I knew that from the first time we slept together,” Stiles said with an uncomfortable laugh, running his hands over his hair and tugging again which appeared to be his new nervous tick. “Something always seemed off whenever we slept together, I just assumed it was inexperience and not something deeper.”

“So does this mean you are fully gay?” Scott asked after another small moment of silence, unsure if that was a rude question to ask someone and questioning whether he was really the best person to be having this conversation with.

“I…Derek said he had been with girls and guys, so I mean I guess I could be bisexual,” Stiles responded unsurely, weighing the options in his head.

“I didn’t ask what you could be, I asked what you are,” Scott replied soothingly, knowing his friend was likely to jump and run if he so much as considered raising his voice or using an accusing tone to move forward the conversation. “You know it doesn’t matter either way, right?”

“Of course it matters!” Stiles shouted, looking at Scott suddenly as if he had grown two heads. “How does me apparently being gay and only finally admitting it to myself somehow not matter?”

“That’s now what I meant, Stiles,” Scott said with a hint of annoyance, looking at him as if he was an idiot. “I mean it doesn’t matter to me whether you are gay or straight or bisexual or whatever else kind of sexual there is, you are still my brother and I still love you all the same dude.”

“Oh,” Stiles muttered pathetically, rubbing at the back of his eyes again and trying to think of the last time he had actually slept for more than a few hours, loathe to admit to Scott that the nightmares had come back in full force ever since Derek had taken off. “I guess it doesn’t”

“Exactly. So what is it dude? Gay or not gay?”

“Um, gay I guess?” Stiles said the question mark implied since this whole conversation made him increasingly uncomfortable and also because it made the most sense and he wasn’t sure whether he was ready to be the weird, smart kid who also happened to be gay. He was odd enough as it was.

“Well there you go,” Scott said happily, not seeing the eye roll from Stiles who used his mouth to mime the words behind Scott’s back who had turned to grab the note off of his friend’s nightstand, re-reading the words once more, though he, like Stiles, knew them off by heart. “Do you think that’s what he meant?”

“What do you mean what he meant?”

“In his note,” Scott said, suddenly feeling like it was all beginning to make sense as Stiles continued to look on at him as if he had grown several more heads and was morphing into a devil unicorn (which, still, no). “He said he wished he could have told you and he trusted you but now he had to leave. Maybe he meant he wished he could have told you he loved you, but you already knew too much about him and he didn’t want to hurt you with his dark past so he left before you hurt yourself or something?”

“How could he have loved me if he still chose to leave?” Stiles said angrily, reaching out for the note and ripping it out of Scott’s hands, tearing it angrily down the middle and feeling like he had been punched in the gut as soon as he did it, his eyes legitimately filling with tears when he realized what he had done, the last piece of Derek he had sitting in two pieces in his now-clenched hands as the weight of what Scott said next sank in.

“How could he have loved you if he stayed?”

***

They had only been in the car for a few hours, but Stiles was already starting to go stir crazy, the long distance giving him ample amount of time to overthink anything and everything from the last few months, including when he had fallen in love with Derek, while also trying to figure out if and when Derek had fallen in love with him.

“You’re thinking mighty loud over there, son,” the Sheriff said smartly, eyeing his son out of the corner of his eye as he surpassed the speed limit just barely so he could overtake a slower moving vehicle before settling back down in the right lane as they drove out towards New York to visit the university.

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered under his breath, though it did nothing to lessen the thoughts swirling around in his brain.

“Is this about NYU or Derek?” the Sheriff asked astutely, knowing the answer before Stiles gave it, already shaking his head when he did.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“What makes you think you’ll find him?” the Sheriff questioned after a few miles of silence had passed, having picked up on his son’s direction of thoughts two states back and waiting impatiently for him to say it. 

“I…”

“How long have you known he was in New York?” the Sheriff asked instead after another minute of silence, glancing quickly at Stiles and catching the face his son made at himself in the reflection of the side mirror.

“I don’t I guess, he just talked so much about how New York was home to him and how he felt safer there then he did anywhere else. It just makes sense that he’d go back after leaving.”

The Sheriff sat in silence as he considered his next response, the heat of the note he had received burning in his pocket, the instructions on where to find the older wolf if they ever needed him suddenly weighing down on his conscience. On the one hand, the bastard had left his son with a broken heart. He didn’t need glasses to tell the two of them were in love, but on the other hand, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t break the man’s face when he saw him or that Stiles wouldn’t break his when he found out that the Sheriff had known where the wolf was this entire time and hadn’t thought to mention it. On second thought, there was still a long ways to drive and no amount of strength would give the sheriff the courage to unleash that particular can of worms while trapped in a metal cube hurtling down the interstate a few miles over the posted speed limit.

“It’s a big city,” the Sheriff said instead, reaching out and thumbing the radio station until he found something loud and chaotic, turning the music up and drowning the thoughts in his own head as he continued to drive, the silence between the two men carrying over to the next day as they continued their trip cross-country.

“If you were a werewolf on the run, where would you go Dad?” Stiles asked a few hours into the second day, munching on a bag of nuts they had picked up from the last gas station.

“Probably not New York,” the Sheriff responded absent-mindedly, looking at the GPS and dreading having to spend another day in the car with his far-too-clever son who was likely going to pick up on his lie if he wasn’t overly careful. “I’d probably go hide in the woods or something.”

“To be fair though, he did try that and it didn’t work overly well for him.”

“I admit your point,” the Sheriff noted casually, looking at his son with what he hoped was a bemused expression before turning his attention back on the road.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I did bump into him randomly one day?” Stiles started, looking at his dad with an expression that seemed overly hopeful for the Sheriff’s taste. “It might not be soon, maybe in a couple years or something we bump into each other on the street and he’s actually excited to see me and we go for coffee and we catch up and he tells me about the life he’s built in New York and that he’s happy and settled down with someone and then I can tell him about school and winning an award for my paper that was best in the class and I take him to my favourite pizza place and he takes me to his and we get to be friends again once all the hurt has gone away and we realize that friends is what we were meant to be.”

“I doubt you have the patience for that,” the Sheriff said with a laugh, feeling a strange twinge in his chest, knowing full well his son had just told him inadvertently that he was gay and sort of wishing he was able to reach across and hug him and tell him he loved him and sort of glad at the same time that he could keep on driving and pretend that it was no big deal, regardless if he had known all along.

“True. But it could be fate, you know?” Stiles said with his own laugh, his mood lightening for the first time on the trip though the Sheriff really had no idea why or where this had come from, but thankful for it all the same.

“Maybe it could be,” he said after a moment, glancing carefully at the GPS knowing full well that he programmed the route to their hotel so they would pass Derek’s address in a futile attempt to do…something, anything to stop the pain his son was feeling. So if that “fate” was actually an ill-covered lie, well, Stiles didn’t quite need to know his involvement in it.

***

“Oh my god,” were the first words out of Stiles’ mouth as they crested the hill and New York suddenly appeared below them, the two of them having caught glimpses of the city over the last hour, but not being able to see the entire spread until just now. “We’re a long way from home, Toto.”

“Really, Stiles? The Wizard of Oz?” the Sheriff asked, shaking his head in amusement and doing his best to keep his gaze focused on the road as the traffic picked up, though he did have to admit that the views were pretty breathtaking. 

“I admit nothing, father,” Stiles replied with a grin, leaning forward in his seat as they neared the city, lapsing off into a happy silence as he took in the views over the next hour as they got closer and closer to Stiles’ potential new home.

The Sheriff turned onto a quieter street some forty minutes later and huffed a small sigh of relief, the heavy New York traffic being something he had never experienced before and was excited to never experience again, already missing the quiet streets of Beacon Hills where he was likely only to give out four or five speeding tickets a week which was nothing compared to the monster he was currently in. 

Driving slowly down the street, the Sheriff inconspicuously looked ahead at the tall apartment buildings, recognizing the building he had looked up before they had started the trip, deleting his browser history immediately after so his nosy son wouldn’t be able to pick up on his lie, making sure to pay attention to the lights as he did so while also trying to figure out what the hell he was doing here and whether he was going to hurt his son worse if they did happen to see Derek.

Pulling over, the Sheriff sighed and stretched his legs and back, ignoring the confused look Stiles was sending him and still internally debating all of his life choices as he exited the car, motioning for his son to do the same and thinking back to a conversation he had, had with the missing older man a few months previous when he had told the Sheriff about his favourite pizza place which just so happened to be across the street from his apartment building and exactly where the Sheriff was currently headed.

Stiles fell into step beside him as the Sheriff reached over his shoulder and double-clicked the lock button on his remote, looking surreptitiously around the street, not seeing anyone with dark black hair and broad shoulders though he hadn’t had a huge amount of time to look around without Stiles noticing that something was off and beginning to question him. As they neared the pizza parlour, the Sheriff heart’s sank when he realized they might be safe and not run into the older man when suddenly Stiles shouted and took off, sprinting towards a man who had just walked out of the building with a distinctive leather jacket that even the Sheriff recognized from this distance away, watching as his son barreled towards an unsuspecting Derek and casting a quick prayer up to who knows what in hopes that this was the best decision he could make and that he wasn’t about to hurt his son further than he already had.

***

All he had in warning was a quick sniff of vanilla, gunpowder, musk and forest before Derek was stopping abruptly, eyes widening as he registered the smell and the voice shouting as it neared and turning last second to make eye contact with Stiles before he came to an abrupt stop in front of him, face red from exertion and a mix of anger, shock and something else that Derek wasn’t quite ready to place in case he was wrong and the younger man wasn’t as happy to see him as he seemed.

“You asshole,” the younger man said, pulling himself to his full height and staring at Derek defiantly, his face erasing all other emotions other than anger as he stared directly into his friend’s eyes, the dark chocolate of his irises doing nothing to hide the hurt he knew he must be feeling.

Distantly Derek saw the Sheriff out of the corner of his eyes and only just noticed his hands come up to neck as he shook his head and crossed his arms in front of him indicating that he didn’t want Stiles to know he had known where the older man was and feeling an inexplicable rush of anger at the thought which he quickly tamped down as he realized the Sheriff likely knew the whole situation and was also likely inches away from attempting to throttle him to death which was a rather unappealing thought. Tearing his eyes from the older man, Derek looked back at Stiles who was understandably fuming as he tried to come up with a response that would somehow explain why he’d tucked his tail and ran instead of facing Stiles like he should have.

“You asshole,” Stiles repeated, stepping closer and bringing his irresistible smell with him, Derek breathing in a large breath of his aroma despite himself, though Stiles instantly knew what he was doing which only managed to set him off further.

“Five months! Five months ago that you left, Derek, leaving nothing but a stupid note that made absolutely zero sense and here you are eating pizza in New York like you leaving wasn’t the hardest fucking thing I’ve had to deal with and that includes losing my mom,” Stiles shouted, his arms coming up as he gestured wildly around him, his voice rising with every word and drawing the attention of a number of passerby’s who Derek really wished would piss off any moment now as the weight of the younger man’s words started to settle in.

“I…”

“And then!” Stiles interrupted, gearing himself up for a much longer tirade as he took in a large breath of air, taking joy in the look of fear and something else that had taken residence up on Derek’s face. “And then, you fucking stare at me as if you didn’t know you had broken my fucking heart, Derek. I trusted you! I believed in you, I believed in us! I was ready to break up with Malia and sew a happy fucking rainbow to my bag and tell you I loved you and tell my dad he had to get rid of the wolfsbane bullets in the house in case he ever tried to hurt you or in case anyone else ever tried to hurt you and I was going to tell you I wanted to move away together back here because I knew it would make you happy and all I wanted for months was to make you happy and to never have to see that stupid frown on your face again and I promised your parents in the grave that night that I would look after you and then you made me break my promise and I can’t forgive you for that, Derek, I just can’t.”

Derek stared on in shock as Stiles stopped talking, the flush on the other man’s face deepening as he glared daggers in Derek’s direction, the pain that was washing over him making him temporarily numb as the words “and tell you I loved you” rang over and over in his head.

“You…you loved me?” he whispered, barely loud enough for his own ears to hear though Stiles apparently understood what he said.

“You know what’s fucking great about that?” Stiles started angrily, fisting his hands into his pockets and pulling them back out with a huff, not being able to find a comfortable position. “Is that even after you left, even after you broke my heart without a care in the world, I just spent the last three days in the car with my dad thinking that if I ever saw you I would tell you that I still do love you. How’s that for twisted, huh?”

Derek sort of registered the crowd that had gathered around them, though for the most part he was dialed in on Stiles, taking a subtle breath to gauge his emotions and feeling the younger man’s pain wash over him, along with the anger, hurt and hesitation that smelled suspiciously like fear of rejection that he now recognized from Stiles many times over in the last few weeks that they had, had together before Derek had run from his own fear of rejection and come back to New York where he could hide in the anonymity of the masses.

“What makes you think I don’t love you back?” Derek heard himself say distantly, his entire focus zeroing in on everything that was Stiles, his look, his smell, his feel though he wasn’t exactly close enough to touch and suddenly wishing that he was, stepping forward without so much of a second thought and halving the distance between the two of them.

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare tell me you love me after you left me alone with the nightmares and the fear of dying and constantly wondering whether you were dead or alive and if I was ever going to see you again!”

“Stiles, don’t you get it?” Derek said snippily, stepping even closer and sensing his own anger rising quickly to the surface. “I left because I love you, not because I didn’t love you back you idiot.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Derek,” Stiles said, his teeth still gritted as he took deep, heavy breaths, his breath brushing along Derek’s face and tickling the edge of his beard which he had grown back in after having left Beacon Hills.

“You don’t understand,” Derek spat, unsure of where this current anger was coming from, completely ignoring everything and everyone around them as he tried to think of the words to say that would get Stiles to understand. “You don’t know what it’s like, being scared of what you are and who you are, always wondering in the back of your mind if you being around was going to hurt the people you love more than if you were gone. You don’t know what it’s like to stare at your ceiling every night and wish that the body next to you was longer, lither and broader, knowing that you were in love with the wrong person and wishing more than anything that they were there instead of her. You don’t know what it’s like to feel yourself falling in love with someone who is inexplicably perfect and knowing that everyone you’ve ever loved has died either in your arms or because of you and then know that you can never have him because you even being around him is too dangerous and you could kill him and you know that it would kill you, to see him hurt, that it would be the last straw. Don’t you dare act like leaving wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever had to fucking do and that includes burying my entire family you clueless idiot! I left because you deserve better than me and I can’t fucking stand to be around you knowing that I can never have you. Don’t tell me that I don’t love you, because I know damn well that I do.”

He barely heard the “oh you idiot” before suddenly lips were pressed against his own and Stiles’ warm body was wrapped tightly around his own, his hands tugging at his jacket and pulling him closer as he tried to lick into his mouth, brain finally registering what was happening when he heard the roar of the crowd around him as Derek finally managed to reach down and pull Stiles somehow closer, opening his lips and inviting him in as a rush of emotion from both of them washed over him and enveloped him, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“You asshole,” Stiles muttered against his lips and that was all it took for Derek’s walls to break down, shattering into a million pieces as he grabbed the back of the man’s head, holding him in place as he kissed him with all the passion that he could spare, trying to express everything he had been unable to say with that single kiss, forgetting about the world around them, the crowd and the father of the man he was kissing on a street corner in downtown New York on a Friday afternoon.

Finally pulling away, Derek looked at Stiles who had a mixture of shock and awe etched across his face which he imagined was similar to the expression on his own. Looking over Stiles’ shoulder, Derek made eye contact with the Sheriff who looked both pleased and concerned at the same time, his apparent plan having worked though he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it all the same. Looking back at Stiles, Derek’s features softened when he noticed the younger man staring at him with a hopeful and heartbreaking face.

“I’m not going to leave you twice,” Derek murmured, leaning forward to catch Stiles’ lips in another kiss, closed mouth and chaste though still full of all the passion and love he hoped the younger man understood was there, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment, hoping that this time it was for real.

“I’m still mad at you,” Stiles said as he pulled away, huffing a laugh when Derek audibly sighed and tried to chase his mouth to no avail as Stiles (regrettably) stepped back and looked directly into his eyes once more. 

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” Derek found himself saying, wishing Stiles was closer, but not being willing to push it.

“I’m going to want a full explanation,” Stiles continued as Derek groaned at the thought of having to try and tell Stiles everything that had been going through his mind when he left.

“If you must.”

“And I do hope you realize that just because you love me back, doesn’t mean you are off the hook for being a ginormous asshat and leaving without a word,” Stiles continued again as Derek nodded, making a face despite himself and agreeing amicably.

“I’m also going to have to see your place to decide if it has good enough living conditions for the both of us,” Stiles smiled, laughing when Derek’s jaw physically dropped in shock and he reeled back as the words sank in.

“You’re moving to New York?”

“I got a full scholarship to NYU,” Stiles said smugly, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t actually committed yet, nor told his dad that he had fully committed though he imagined he had already caught on. “So, I guess that means that I’ll be needing a place to live come the end of school when I move out here.”

“NYU is less than ten blocks from here,” Derek found himself saying, trying frantically to push down the happiness that was blossoming in his chest at the smile that spread across Stiles face and deciding then and there to fuck it, stepping in and kissing Stiles once more, regardless of the fact this was more PDA than he had exhibited ever in his life and not actually caring that much if he was being honest with himself because it was Stiles and he knew that Stiles secretly loved this shit.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ lips as he pulled back, dropping his forehead to rest against the younger man’s and slowly opening his eyes to look into the deep chocolate ones he had missed so much.

“I know,” Stiles responded with a smarmy grin. “But don’t worry; you have the rest of our lives to make it up to me.”

Well…that didn’t actually sound so bad after all.

***

**[EPILOGUE]**

The months had passed quickly since that one rushed trip, with Derek having toured Stiles and the Sheriff around New York, showing them how to navigate the transit system, touring them around the university, introducing them to Stiles’ faculty advisor, Derek blushing all the while when he finally admitted he had gotten to know him in the off chance that Stiles had decided to come to NYU so he could check in on him and make sure he was doing okay.

The two had talked for hours that first night and even longer the next night, discussing everything that had happened in the last five months, sharing their thoughts and dreams about the future and generally deciding that if they were both so miserable apart that it only made sense that they never stay apart for much longer and that being together therefore made the most sense.

This meant going back to Beacon Hills after a few more days together, accepting the invite to attend the university and telling all his friends that he wouldn’t be back. It also meant gearing up to leave his father which Stiles had managed to push to the back of his mind until this very moment as he and the Sheriff unloaded the last few boxes from the moving truck some months later and dropped them in Derek and Stiles’ apartment.

“Dad?” Stiles said softly, knowing full well he was going to burst into tears at any second and being grateful that Derek had excused himself to go run a quick errand. “Are you going to be okay with me gone?”

“Oh son,” the sheriff whispered, pulling him into his arms and openly crying, with joy that his son had found the happiness he deserved, pride that he had gotten into one of the best schools in the country and an overwhelming sadness knowing that his son would be halfway across the country for likely the rest of his life, something that was too hard to handle at this current moment in time.

“I love you dad, so much” Stiles whispered into the crook of his father’s neck, tears streaming down his face as he worried about his dad’s health, whether he would be lonely with him gone and whether he and Melissa would be able to make it work with all the kids leaving the nest at once.

“I love you too, son,” the sheriff responded, hugging him tighter before pulling away and patting him on the shoulder twice while rubbing at the tears on his own cheeks. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Melissa and I are thinking of moving in with each other.”

“Wait, seriously?” Stiles shouted, shocked at first and then overcome with happiness when he realized his dad would no longer be alone and that he and Melissa would be able to take care of each other. “Since when?”

“We talked about it right before graduation, but with all you kids gone and just the two of us, well, that’s a lot of house for two people living on their own. It’s economical is what it is to move in together, save electricity and preserve gas,” the sheriff started to say as he rambled on, stopping when he noticed Stiles shaking his head with a massive grin stretched across his face.

“You love her, don’t you dad?”

“Yeah, I do,” the sheriff said after a moment, swallowing around the lump in his throat and thinking about his first wife, knowing that she was looking down with approval and that she was happy he had finally found someone. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“That makes me really happy to hear,” Stiles said with a pointed sniff, tears rolling down his cheeks once more as the two embraced yet again, both looking at the time and knowing the sheriff had to go if he wanted to make his flight back to Beacon Hills, the buzzer ringing at that exact moment indicating that the cab was already there.

“You take care of yourself, okay son?” the sheriff said through his tears, smiling warmly at his son despite the fact he was blurry though the haze of his emotion.

“You too, dad. I hope you know I will be asking Melissa for regular updates on your health and instructing her not to let you eat anything too fatty or high in carbohydrates!”

“Stiles,” the sheriff said exasperatedly, smiling and hugging him once more before pulling away and stepping back, leaving the goodbye unsaid as he walked towards the front door, telling Stiles not to be stupid as he began to walk out, Stiles’ eyes damp with tears as he watched his father go, only barely hearing another voice mix in with his father’s as he dabbed at his eyes and tried to get himself under control before Derek got back, failing when he noticed his friend-turned-lover slip in the door, his face ashen despite his usually tanned complexion.

“What did my dad say to you?” Stiles asked after a moment, putting two-and-two together and noting how the older man looked warily at him from across the room before walking over and pulling him into his strong embrace.

“Nothing important,” Derek responded, replaying the “I don’t care how many people you’ve ripped apart with your bare teeth, if you hurt my son again I promise they will never find your body” over and over in his head, tightening his hold on the younger man and breathing in the smell of his partner. “Just told me to take care of you.”

“I think the point is that we take care of each other,” Stiles said with a small huff, eyes still wet with emotion though he was slowly getting a hold of himself.

“I think I could do that too.”

“I’d hope so,” Stiles said with a real laugh this time, looking up at Derek warmly. “You never know when I’ll need protecting.”

“You? Always,” Derek said, returning the smile and feeling his heart swell at the sight. “Need to be careful with all those masked men and devil unicorns running around in the night.”

“Goddamnit Derek,” Stiles said with a breath of annoyance. “Why did you have to mention the damn devil unicorns?”

**[FIN]**

**Author's Note:**

> I owe a huge thank you to my friend C who beta'd this story for me and encouraged me throughout the process, I couldn't have done it without her. This story started as a bet between us and our friend N when we put a bunch of character pairings and songs into two hats and drew out names. I got "Sterek" and "Little Bit of Red" by Serena Ryder, and while I realize this story has deviated off my original song path, I still love it all the same and I'm proud for actually finishing it.
> 
> Also, this story has absolutely nothing to with Devil Unicorns other than me thinking I am hilarious. Sorry for the deception and hope you enjoyed it all the same. Italics are flashbacks if that isn't abundantly obvious.
> 
> I take requests (or I guess I could, I haven't before). Tell me what you think or come say hi at hobrerek.tumblr.com. Much love xx


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